Testosterone, Epic Facial Hair, and PURE RAGE!
by GunsAndIceCream
Summary: A new addition to the SOG definitely stirs things up. A Corporal who is on the deep end of the feminine scale. Is the fiery, spiteful little guy really who 'he' claims to be?
1. Operation 40

**MISSION: OPERATION 40****  
><strong>**LOCATION: BAY OF PIGS, SANTA MARIA, CUBA****  
><strong>**DATE: APRIL 17, 1961****  
><strong>**EXTRACTION TEAM: CHIEF PETTY OFFICER JOSEPH BOWMAN, SERGEANT FRANK WOODS****, ****CORPORAL JAKE MCPHERSON****, ****CAPTAIN ALEX MASON**

All that could be seen from the unmarked aircraft was the aerial view of the Caribbean Ocean, endless crystal-blue waves. Darkened jade-green eyes peered off towards it, the waves reflecting into the irises a bit. The notorious twenty-eight year old Captain was zoning everything out for the most part, trying to focus into the right frame of mind... the _only _frame of mind that he could have for the mission ahead of him. However, eheh, the silence hadn't lasted for very long.

**"Soooo, do I get to know where we're goin', Cap'n?"**

Alex sighed lightly, his vision flickering over to the boy, who awaited his answer eagerly. **"Cuba."** His deep, gruff voice muttered. **"We'll be infiltrating the Bay of Pigs estate."** He paused, a thought crossing his mind as a risen brow was soon to follow. **"Weren't you informed of anything?"**

**"Heh, **_**nope**_**. I was just given the order to do whatever I was told by my CO for the mission, which is **_**you**_**, Cap'n."** The boy seemed to respond rather casually; his voice was an alto-toned rasp, considerably high for a boy his age. Heh, if anything, he sounded like he hadn't quite hit puberty. A deep sigh escaped him, his honey brown eyes looking to the window as well. **"**_**Ah**_**, Cuba; I was wondering why we're dressed like we're taking a vacation. Yanno, I've never been to Cuba before."**

**"Yeah? Well it's not that great. It's hotter than shit out there, wears you out quicker."** Alex informed him rather bluntly. This kid just seemed to be _too_ relaxed here; did he not realize the severity of this mission?

**"Pssht, **_**please**_**."** The boy lulled his head over to look across to him, giving him an incredulous look. **"I doubt it could top Nam-weather, I'll deal****." **The young Corporal studied the Captain's expression, a hint of a smirk quirking onto his lips. **"I **_**may**_** just be a Corporal, but I guarantee that I'll be no burden. I was assigned to your SOG team for a reason."**He pointed out, smirk turning a bit cocky.

Heh, oy... looks like he's got a hotshot on his hands, ah? Needless to say, the Captain was amused and reassured at the same time. He'll see if his bite is as bad as his bark soon. A small grin of his own seeped up across his face, nodding curtly in response. **"Don't lose that confidence, kid. You're gonna need it."**

Out of anyone they could've given him, a character like Jake McPherson was thrown into his hands; definitely _not_ expected. Hell, just a Corporal, period. In any other case, high-risk assassinations were saved for elite officers such as himself... but the boy was probably one of the _only_ exceptions. The Captain had been informed on infinite accounts, personal acquaintances even, on how much of a combat prodigy this boy was. He specialized in stealth and melee techniques, and was a genius when it came to tactical strategy. But damn, that's the _last_ he'd expect from a twenty-year-old boy. Not to mention he had to be the _tiniest_ shrimp of a marine he's ever laid eyes on. He looked to be what, 5"3, 5"4 if that? He had _no_ sign of facial hair whatsoever... and to be honest, he was, er... a bit on the feminine side, 'specially in the face. He'd be mistaken for a chick _easily_ if he had to put on a dress for whatever reason, without a doubt.

However, despite these 'quirks', Alex did see a bit of himself in Jake; heh, he too was once that cocky little shit. But what he's been through over the past few years has changed him, hardened him... and he was curious, to see just how Jake would turn out in the long-run.

The wheels of the aircraft soon made contact with the Santa Maria Airport Runway, designed to blend in with the surrounding Tropas planes when it came to appearance; and it'd be up and out of there before it could even be checked for an ID number.

Alex's face hardened; bullshitting aside, time to get to work. **"Alright, Corporal; make sure you stick close, be ready for anything."** The door of the aircraft was soon unsealed and opened. **"Let's move."**

McPherson eyed the Captain in amusement, just allowing him to get the obvious advice to him out of his system; of _course_ he fucking knew what to do, but he wasn't about to impose. For the fact that this was pretty much going to be his induction into the SOG, he'd certainly felt the nerves of excitement building up. For a few seconds, he'd come off as a giddy child on Christmas Day. By the time that the Captain had glanced over to him though, the boy had already been carrying a stoic, monotonous expression, ehehe. The both of them made their way through the crowded streets of Santa Maria, the significant height difference between the two being _very_ comical.

It was hot, it was sticky, and the run-down little cantina that they'd walked into didn't have much of a difference, either. McPherson followed closely behind Captain Mason, and they made their way towards the three men that had been awaiting their arrival. One looked like your average Cuban, he could easily pass for a local. The other two, despite their casual wear, wore the hardened face that only true GI's could possess. One was dark-skinned and more clean cut, and the other looked like your typical hard-ass white boy with a beastly amount of facial hair.

**"S'bout time ya get here, I'm a hundred-fuckin'-years old."**The harsh, low-tenor rasp of the beastly one spoke. McPherson liked this guy already, snickering behind Alex, whom shot a shit-eating grin towards the man in response.

**"It's been a while."**They'd both exchanged that look of mutual bro-palhood. Then, that's when the beastly one took notice of the boy behind Alex, quirking a brow.

**"Who's the midget?"**

Alex smirked, stepping back and clapping a hand onto McPherson's shoulder. **"**_**This**_** is Corporal Jake McPherson, he was assigned to this team by the Secretary of Defense himself."** He then turned his face, looking down to the boy. **"Jake, this is Sergeant Woods."** He'd motioned to the beastly one first, then to the dark-skinned man next, **"And Chief Petty Officer Bowman."**

**"Whoa, whoa, **_**Corporal**_**? Puh,"** Woods scoffed, shaking his head a bit in disappointment. **"What the hell are they on up there? Sendin' kids out here to do our jobs, fuckin' ridiculous."** WELL. Woods _did_ seem cool to Jake, that was until he flat out mocked his abilities and belittled him. He then turned to face Jake, giving him a rather unimpressed look. **"Tell me, pipsqueak; whose leg didja have to pull to land this gig?"**Oh-ho... he was just pressing the right buttons to get under the Corporal's skin, it was so obvious in his face. He'd balled a fist, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth to defend himself, but Alex had intervened.

**"Alright, that's enough-"**

**"Nah, it's fine, Cap'n."** Jake had insisted in a casual tone to Alex; he can't have the Captain holding his hand for this mission now, can he? And at that, he'd look back to Woods, giving him a _highly_ defiant smirk and stood straighter. **"I **_**earned**_** my place here, Sergeant; just like the rest of you extraordinary GI's have. I just happen to be younger, and at a lower rank. Now I'd appreciate it if you didn't hold odds against me that aren't necessarily my fault. So trust me when I tell you this,"** His voice dripped with spite, **"I won't disappoint."**It's not the first time that a pompous asshole has doubted him.

Heh, well hot damn. That defense was probably the most civil, and point-sticking that the Corporal could've gotten, causing Alex and Joseph to show slight shock, pleasantly of course. Naturally though, Woods remained stone-faced. **"It takes a helluva lot more than righteous words to earn my trust, boy."**He'd told Jake matter-of-factly.

Even Alex didn't push it with Frank when he'd first met him, this kid had some _balls_. It was merely seconds later that the Cuban behind the bar counter made himself heard. **"Time is a luxury that we do not have, gentleman; so if I could have your attention."** And at that, he'd laid out the blueprints of the very estate that they had to infiltrate. He begun guiding his index finger over the building layout, **"You'll have to enter through the Southeast Wing **_**here**_**, because it has the least amount of security. Make your way up to the Northwest Wing, **_**this**_** is where Castro's bedroom and briefing area resides. It is very important that you **_**do**_** make it to the airfield past the plantation, I'll have a plane waiting there for you."**

Carlos and Mason already knew eachother. He trusted him; hell, without him, they'd have no shot at this without this kind of Intel. Everyone had gotten close enough to lay eyes on the blueprint, get a good feel for it. In the meantime, Jake didn't overlook the fact that the air ventilation system veined throughout a good portion of the place. He snickered deviously, his dark ruffled hair might as well have curled into devil horns. _'Ohh-ho-ho, perfect...'_ However, Carlos suddenly seemed alarmed, and stashed the blueprints away in time as a band of Tropas soldiers piled in. Go figure. In response, Woods suddenly stiffened, expression turning cold and looking like a predator ready to attack at any given second.

**"SACA LOS PAPELES?"**

**"Be cool, Woods."**The Captain warned...

**"Pff-ff-ff..."**

So much for being discreet, eheh... With Jake not being able to keep his amusement contained and all. He blew it by sputtering out quiet laughter. And sure enough, that brought the attention _directly_ onto them.

**"Tu donde estas? I SAID WHERE ARE YOU FROM?"**

Mason remained cool as ice as the Tropas officer barked at them, but oh-ho, Woods shot Jake a glare that could _kill_. But did the boy notice? Hah! _Nope_. He was too busy attempting to suppress himself, nose bridge scrunched as he shook his head silently. _'Why was that so fuckin' funny? AHAH!'_

Then... that's when it happened.

Woods pulled out his own shank knife, and pinned the officer that approached them to the bar counter by stabbing _straight _through his forearm. A split second later, he'd slammed the nearby bottle of tequila into his face and knocked him unconscious. Within seconds, his well-concealed pistol was drawn, and the other officers were shot, dropping like flies.

_'Whoa...'_

That _had_ to be the coolest thing that Jake had ever seen. The guy _may_be a prick, but the boy could admire epic when he saw it. However, gaping time was up; time to put the game face on. The cantina doors busted open, and all three GI's took on any oncoming reinforcements with their Commando rifles that were stashed away prior. In the meantime, Jake was thinking of what was to come, and knew they had to get outta there, and fast.

Jake reached back, whipping out the ballistic throwing knife that had been cleverly attached underneath the fabric of his shirt against his shoulderblade. With a forceful flick of precision, the blade impacted deep into the neck of one of the many unsuspecting military grunts that were blindly attacking them. Once fallen, the boy immediately crouched beside the wounded soldier, twisting the blade harshly. He made sure that the Tropas commie was good and dead, before ripping the knife out and stealing the soldier's Skorpion sub-machine gun right after. He'd then taken cover behind debris during the erupted chaos, noting that the rest of the team was too busy to notice the oncoming car that was full of even _more_ military personnel.

He'd snuck up behind the vehicle once it'd skidded carelessly to a stop, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. _'Three...two...one...'_ Jake sprung up, and before the group of Tropas grunts could even blink again, a string of bullets had been sent into their skulls or kidneys. The driver, still in the vehicle, was panicking, naturally. However, he'd been too slow to retaliate, since soon there was blood beginning to stream smoothly from the center of his throat. He was struggling for his life as the steel wire dug deeper and deeper into his jugular. Oh _fuck _yeah, that's how you do a Columbian Necktie, bitch. Jake had used his small size to his advantage, silent-ninja-maneuvering as well to climb into the backseat and attack from behind. After shoving the driver's lifeless corpse from behind the wheel, he'd hopped with nimble movement over the center console and into the passenger's seat. He honked the horn vigorously to get the squad's attention, sticking his head out after.

**"LET'S GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!"**

At that, all three wasted _no_ time on bookin' their asses to the car, Woods and Bowman piling in the backseat as Mason took the wheel. The Captain wasn't worried about the other two, but he'd flashed a quick glance of concern to Jake, because of his size. **"Hold on tight."**

Jake scoffed, making a face. **"Pssht, what do I look like, a -**_**FUCKSHIT!"**_He yelped as Mason took off like a bat out of hell on crack, maneuvering like a person late for work in New York.

**"Heh, a **_**fuckshit**_**? Never heard of it, but it'll suit ya, Corporal."** Commented Woods, a _hint_ of amusement on his lips; but definitely in the eyes. The Sergeant has a sense of humor? What _is_ this?

**"Ehh..."** Whined Jake in response, waving it off with a sheepish smirk, eyes closed as he made another face, Bowman chuckling at the matter. But _fuck_ man, Mason's driving! A sudden terrain glitch caused the car to lose elevation and drop much like a plane would when losing altitude, causing Jake's light body to fly up and _THUNK_ his head on the roof. **"**_**Aye**_**!"** He rubbed his head vigorously, the whole squad _erupting_ with laughter in the meantime. **"Yeeeah yeah, laugh it up,"**Commented Jake dryly with a slight grin; it was getting easier by the minute to treat these three like buds rather than superiors.

_Somehow_, they'd all managed to keep their stomachs intact from Mason's driving, but they'd gotten to their destination that was just outside of the Southeastern Wing, just as Carlos had instructed.

It'd been a quick process to infiltrate, the guards and armed vehicles being pitiful when it came to their defense skills. _This_ was Castro's trusted military? Che, what a piece of cake this mission is going to be then. And sure enough, they'd zip-lined over to the Southeast entrance. They were merely seconds away from even _more_ hell that was about to ensue, all of them taking the time to reload their weapons. During this time, Jake spoke up. **"Hey Cap'n... With your permission, I'd like to enter from the back wall. I have an idea."**He'd kept eye-contact with him, confidence in his voice. And honestly, Mason didn't feel the need to think too hard on it. Nobody had to tell the Corporal to get them an escape vehicle, and he was obviously fine on his own.

**"****Just make sure that you're back with us before we run for the airfield****."** And at that, he'd looked to Woods and Bowman with an affirmative nod. **"Let's go."**All three sprinted off, and with an excited smirk, Jake took off as well, but around the corner to the back. It hadn't taken much effort to locate an air vent, dis-assemble the grid and climb in. Now?

..._'It's party time.'_

Even though Jake was armed with a Commando like everyone else, there was reasoning for jacking that Skorpion earlier; _multiple attachments..._ a.k.a., a noise suppressor. Within minutes, military personnel begun to decrease significantly. Even though Mason, Woods, and Bowman were causing quite the commotion, they only had to deal with the grunts in their line of sight. The luxury of not having to worry about reinforcements from behind... thanks to a certain Corporal. Because come on, _nobody_ would expect their death to be a two-bullet interval blasting into their skull from above. Eventually, however... Jake ran out of Skorpion clips.

_'Awwh, shitcrackers... What to do, what to do...'_

He sat there for a moment, scratching his head in thought. He couldn't use his Commando just yet, he wasn't quite at the spot he needed to be at for his position to be revealed. And as if on cue, Cuban voices echoed through the vent a couple of feet away. Now he wasn't the best at comprehending Spanish, but he wasn't _completely_ hopeless either. He picked up on the words 'Americans', 'three', 'send', and 'more'.

He'd slowly removed the air-grid from the vent opening, which had dimensions to give it a twelve-foot perimeter. All who was left in that room was the Tropas CO that gave the two soldiers the command to continue forth. Man... this guy really just took his safety for granted, didn't he? With lithe, agile movement, Jake had landed smoothly on the top of the desk directly below the vent in a crouch. Within the next two seconds, the CO was knocked out cold from Jake using the blunt of his stolen Skorpion to ram into his skull, and hard. Jake simply tossed the now-useless sub-machine gun onto the unconscious officer's stomach, looking down to him with a risen eyebrow and a scoff to follow. **"Tch..."** Were _all _foreigners this ignorant? NVA's acted the same goddamn way. He shook his head in disapproval, before slinking over to the room's entrance, slowly peering out and looking right to left down the empty hallway. Alright, good; he's got some time.

He'd knelt down near the doorway, immediately pulling out a string of Semtex grenades, beginning to lace them together by interlacing the fuses together, all to be let off when one would be triggered. This little trick was discovered from on-the-moment improvising a while back, heh, hell yeah. As Jake was in the middle of doing so, however, he'd heard an array of Spanish going off on the walkie-talkie still attached to the unconscious officer's hip. Blinking, he stared at it for a moment... before his grin grew mischievous. Heh, oh no...

He sauntered over, swiping the walkie talkie out and observing it. Huh... it had its' small differences from American walkies, but all and all easy to control. And _just_ for the sole purpose of fucking with any Tropas commies listening, his voice filled the officer's channel. **"Yo tengo un gato en mis pantalones! Repito! Yo tengo un gato en mis pantalones!"** He feigned urgency, switching the channel off and snickering to himself afterwards. Now the Corporal didn't know much Spanish, but it should've been expected for him to know the stupidest of phrases; hence 'I have a cat in my pants'. Laughing a bit to himself as he heard confused, thrown off tones from the other end of the walkie channel, he'd set the device back onto the unconscious officer. Go figure that Jake would find time to fuck around in a situation like this.

However, this was when he'd heard the familiar heavy patter of troops coming down said hallway. Bullshitting aside, he'd grabbed the string of connected Semtex grenades carefully, waiting for the opportune moment. Then came the second countdown of this mission for him. _'Three... Two... One...'_ He pulled the fuse for the leading Semtex, and the various beeping noises begun rapidly going off as he tossed the string of grenades at the oncoming reinforcement Tropas squad, and flat out dove away from the door entrance. At the same time, the various explosions going off one by one caused a _giant _hole in the wall of that room, even getting up into the low roof a bit and causing it to cave in a little.

Jake waited a couple seconds, slowly removing his arms from sheltering his head, and looked over and around, blinking. Well sweet! Looks like those lethals worked! He stood up, brushing himself off and pulled out his Commando assault rifle, that he'd finally be able to use. **"Ha-**_**hah**_**... like a **_**boss**_**."** Jake murmured to himself with a triumphant smirk, loading clips into his Commando as he did so.

**"Well **_**shit**_** my **_**gritz**_**, Corporal..."**Mused Chief Petty Officer Bowman with a wide smirk as he, Woods and Mason approached. Heh, Jake had no idea that he'd given the other three GI's front row seats for the whole Semtex massacre right there.

**"Whatever you've been doin' up 'till now has helped us out big time; we were expecting to be outnumbered, but the enemy pushes against us have been pretty subtle up to this point, eh Woods?"** Alex had spoken matter-of-factly, before looking over his shoulder in inquiry to the Sergeant, who grunted affirmatively and nodded.  
><strong><br>****"Yeah. Turns out your tiny ass is makin' a difference in this mission after all, kid." **Woods had spoken gruffly, a hint of a grin on his dirtied face with a small nod to follow.

Oh-ho, talk about _basking_ in this moment. **"I never would've guessed that you doubted me to begin with, Sergeant."**Jake had spoken teasingly with a shit-eating grin.

Woods chuckled, **"Heh, yeeeah yeah, don't push your luck."**

What knocked the four of them out of their small intermission were strings of bullets that were poorly aimed, instead hitting the walls and debris around them, or even penetrating holes through the glass windows and causing them to shatter.

Of course, it'd been instinct for all four GI's to either duck, or drop/tuck n' roll for cover. Mason, Woods and Bowman were easily capable of going all gung-ho and standing their ground, plucking out Tropas grunts one by one. In the meantime, McPherson used their distraction on the other three more physically-intimidating men to his advantage, taking out grunts that were on the outer corners and weren't paying too much attention.

**"We're **_**close**_**, keep moving!"**Alex's voice had boomed with authority and stormed on forward, the air of determination radiating off of him getting into the others as well.

All three GI's had continued down the hallway, and headed towards a small patio corner. Alex had busted out onto the area, shooting one of the guards in front of a large set of double-doors square in the face, as Woods was quick to send a neck-shot to the other guard by sticking the barrel of his Commando through a shattered window-pane.

Woods and Bowman had been quick to put their backs to the walls on both sides of the double-doors. **"We're ready when you are, Mason."** Woods spoke, tone affirmative. **"Let's do this."**

Alex nodded silently, pulling out his ASP handgun that appeared tiny in the Captain's large hands and cocking it, taking it off of safety. He looked to McPherson with an inquisitive brow, who shot him an encouraging smirk as he cocked his Commando with one hand, the other raising for a thumbs up. **"I'll provide low cover right behind ya, Cap'n."**

The Captain grinned small, before his face read utter seriousness. He zoned everything out, only being able to focus on one thing, and one thing only; killing Fidel Castro. And in one smooth motion, he'd used a hard leverage kick to bust through the double-doors. He'd come face to face with Castro, whom had his whore in an arm-lock in front of him as a human shield, the other hand pointing a pistol ready to fire directly at Mason. As Castro had _just _begun to bellow profanities at him in Spanish, the Captain had already shot a clean shot to him, right between the eyes.

Naturally, the woman begun screaming and wailing in horror. Instead of doing the right thing for herself, she'd gone and reached for the pistol from Castro's corpse; the moment it was aimed at Mason though, Woods was quick to shoot the broad between the eyes himself. **"Che, I just don't get women sometimes. She was **_**all**_** willing to be used as a human shield."** He scoffed and shook his head in disappointment. In the meantime though, McPherson was already at the door that linked to the briefing room, and the rest of the Northwest Wing... just _endless _Tropas commies engaging with hostile force. At least Bowman was quick to join the little guy on the other side of the door, both of them using the wall for cover and taking accurate shots when they could.

**"Hey, uhhh... if you're both done scratchin' your asses, we could use some help over here. Just sayin'."** Spoke McPherson in a sarcastic, yet demanding tone. Even the clown of the squad knew when it was time to buckle down. It was a mutual agreement between Mason and Woods, that yes, they _did_ have a hell of a lot more commies to deal with. Woods would've probably said something along those same lines if positions were switched.

It'd taken a while of pushing, but after a while, yes, the airfield eventually _did_ come into view. And to make a long story short... it pretty much just broke out into flat out chaos from there. Why? That's when other marine troops were airdropped in for the notorious Bay of Pigs raid to begin. In a way, it could be seen as an advantage, because every single soldier out on that field had some form of distraction. Chief Petty Officer Bowman had been the one to snipe out a man that was aboard an assault jeep loaded with a machine gun in the back. **"GET TO THE JEEP AT 3 O' CLOCK, NOW!"**He'd bellowed.

The rest of the squad had booked it over to the vehicle, Alex being the one to hop up into the bed of the jeep and man the machine-gun. Bowman took the wheel, and Woods hopped into the passenger's seat, along with McPherson practically flying into the backseat and slamming the door shut; Bowman put the pedal to the metal, and they zoomed off. **"It's **_**insane**_** out here, my **_**god**_**!"** McPherson shouted, window rolled down as he fired off at commies in nearby vehicles so they couldn't have the upper-hand by attacking Mason from the sides.

Woods was doing the same on the opposite side, letting out a hearty, exhilarated laugh. **"It's not too much for ya, is it kid? Don't shit out bricks now!"**

**"You kidding? That'd be helpful, 'cause then I'd have more ammo!"** McPherson responded with a wide, _highly_ amused smirk with the visual that came along with that. That'd even gotten Woods and Bowman to glance at eachother and cackle a bit, making slightly disgusted looks at the same time.

**"Stop makin' us laugh, damnit!"**

**"Apologies, Sergeant!"**

The jeep plowed through the field of stocks, and soon approached a momentarily vacant winger, that had an American pilot waving them over from the cockpit of a started up plane. The jeep skidded to a complete stop directly beside, the other GI's within the plane immediately going over to the gap of space to pull all four men up. **"Get your asses in the plane, we're takin' off!"**

Bowman had successfully gotten into the aircraft, but then the wheels started moving, and the plane begun to crawl its' way out onto the runway. Woods had sprinted swiftly enough and hopped on, and now all that was left to board was McPherson and Mason. Ehehe... McPherson was pretty much jogging along with the plane, but er... due to his height, this was causing him to attempt to leap and grab a hold of the entrance's edge, and failing... consecutively. The boy let out a growl of frustration, shouting, **"Help me out, I can't reach!"**

**"Goddamnit, McPherson! Such a **_**fucking**_** pain in my ass!"** Bellowed Woods in irritance, a strong arm reaching out and clasping McPherson's wrist, yanking the boy up into the plane in one swift, easy motion. Shit, this kid was as light as a feather! The weight he _benched_ most likely weighed _twice_ the amount that he did, if not more. He remained at the edge of the plane, hand extended to Alex, who was still running alongside the plane as well. **"C'mon, already!"**

The Captain was _just_ about to reach for the Sergeant's hand.. when an idea struck him, from a large-artillery machine-gun that was planted into the earth itself was caught in the corner of his eye. **"I'm goin' to make sure you guys get outta here!"**He shouted with a confident smirk, before slowing his sprint to switch directions.

**"****WHAT? ****ALEX, YOU _CRAZY_ FUCK! GET BACK HERE AND BOARD THIS _GODDAMN_ PLANE! _MASON_!"**

**"Don't worry about me!"** Alex shouted back, leaving Frank's rants something that he'll probably chuckle about later. He wasn't sure if anyone else had noticed, but the plane taking off wasn't exactly a discreet motion anymore; assault-jeeps and troops of Tropas commies were spilling out of every corner; and _someone _had to make sure that plane took off.

The plane _did_ leave the ground, yes... the sight of Alex alone dissipating into a small dot with the higher the plane escalated.

_Meanwhile aboard the plane..._

**"Wait! Mason! He's still down there! We can't just **_**leave**_** him there, what are we going to do?"** Jake ranted, being _more_ than not okay with leaving the Captain behind.

**"He stayed behind to keep our plane from being shot down, we owe him one****."**Bowman told the Corporal simply, looking over to him.

**"...And we're all **_**okay**_** with the fact that chances are slim of him getting out of there alive on his own? ...Did I **_**miss**_** something here?"**

**"You obviously haven't known the Captain for very long."** Woods mused with a raspy chuckle, looking over to Jake with a grin of reassurance. **"If anyone can be a one-man show, it's Mason. And if I know him the way I do, he'll have crept his way out of Cuban territory in no time."**

[[===AUTHOR'S NOTE!===]]

Heya, folks! How did you like this first chapter?

This is basically my own creative rendition of the Call of Duty: Black Ops Campaign Mode storyline, with my own little twists and turns. ;D

Are you interested in reading more? If I get a few reviews/some feedback so I know that SOMEBODY out there wants to keep up with this, then I shall continue to keep posting chapters.

Do not hesitate to drop me a line!**  
><strong>


	2. Rescue Mission Zulu

**MISSION:**** INFILTRATION ZULU  
><strong>**LOCATION:**** VIET CONG, COORDINATES CLASSIFIED  
><strong>**DATE:**** AUGUST 23, 1962  
><strong>**EXTRACTION TEAM****: CHIEF PETTY OFFICER JOSEPH BOWMAN, SERGEANT FRANK WOODS, CORPORAL JAKE MCPHERSON**

He had to admit... it was a bit unnerving, that Alex was still completely M.I.A., and nowhere to be found. Even though it was the Captain's decision to be left behind, it was just how he was... feeling the guilt from one friend to another, that maybe if things had gone differently down in Santa Maria, Alex would still be with them. Now there was a question left unanswered, lingering... was he dead? Or still alive somewhere? Sergeant Woods kept himself at bay with positive thoughts; because _come on_... nobody can kill off Alex of all people, just like that. As of late though, he didn't have much time to wonder of his whereabouts, no matter how much it bothered him. As the renounced leader of the SOG team with Mason missing, he had much more responsibilities, and a lot more people depended on him than the norm. And hence here he was, smack dab in the center of Viet Cong. Himself and Bowman were currently on base, geared up and ready for the mission they were about to embark on; a rescue of POW's.

**"We've got a third party comin' along with us."** Bowman had voiced, slinging his RPK over his shoulder, as he looked up and over to Woods beside him. **"He goes by Fox, I guess."**

**"...**_**Fox**_**? The fuck..."** Frank's brows furrowed, his aqua-blues looking to Bowman in slight bewilderment. **"I don't know any **_**Fox**_**. And I'm supposed to have accounts for every SOG member there is."**

**"Hey, hell if I know."** Bowman shrugged nonchalantly, **"Apparently he's been an SOG member for a good year now. "**

Frank simply grunted, being silent for a few seconds as he continued to load up on just about any possible weapon he could fit onto himself, while still being able to move. **"This is **_**bullshit**_**. We don't have the fuckin' breathing room to get used to a newbie right now."** Nope, he was _not_ happy about this; not one bit. Ehehe... however, there was a voice that would strike the both of them as being _painfully_ familiar, as it got closer to the armory tent that they were in.

**"Good god, can you both move any **_**slower**_**? I'm growin' a wizard's beard waiting for your slow asses, geeze!"**

Bowman subtly snorted out a laugh, shaking his head as he looked towards the tent flap, already knowing who it was before he even entered.

And sure enough, the notorious pipsqueak himself had let himself on in, geared up in forest camo just like they were. He hadn't changed too much, if at all. The only difference now, is that since he was indeed sporting a black tee underneath the cargo vest he wore over it, it showed his slender, mocha-olive-skinned arms, with a colorful tattoo half-sleeve peeking out from the short-sleeve of his left arm. The upper half of the piece was obviously covered, but what could be seen clear as day was a fiery-colored phoenix with long, whispy wings and a bright icy blue eye, having a celestial, space-like backdrop.

**"Oh **_**fuck**_** no! I have to put up with your shit **_**again**_**, Corporal?"**Frank boomed, but in a more relaxed, playful tone of voice, sighing exasperatedly but shooting the little guy a rather pleased grin.

**"N'awwww, you know you've missed it. Besides, I haven't seen you both for a couple months now, and you're in great need for your much-needed dose of **_**Fox**_**."**

**"Whoa, whoa, hold up a second. So**_** you're**_** Fox?"** Bowman inquired, before spurting out a laugh afterwards with a quirked brow. **"That's your callsign now, huh? It makes sense."**

**"You think so? Thanks; I thought it was pretty clever. It's a lot easier to say than my last name, too."** Jake beamed. Foxes were small, mischievous little shits... just like him!

**"Ahh... of course you'd come up with somethin' like that."**Frank teased, an eye-roll to follow as he shook his head lightly, grinning small.

Jake scoffed. **"Psh, **_**oh**_** yeah, coming from the guy who goes by **_**X-ray**_**."**

**"Hey, I think X-ray is pretty fuckin' dignified, don't be giving me a hard time."**

**"Well then stop giving**_** me**_** a hard time, and I won't give _you_ a hard time."** Jake purposely shot Frank a shit-eating smirk, shrugging lightly. **"I could do this **_**aaaall**_** night." **Heh, now it was just joking banter. Not that Woods was the nicest guy to begin with, but Jake had definitely noticed how he'd lightened up on him ever since Operation 40.

**"You guys got everything you need? Let's get moving."** With the simple nod of his chin towards the exit of the armory tent, he'd stalked off, and sure enough, Bowman and McPhe-_Fox_, were quick to follow. You know what? Now, he actually wasn't feeling too tightly wound about this. He had one and a half men (ahaha) that he knew were more than capable; those POW's were definitely going to get out of there with them on the job.

Frank had glanced to Fox over one shoulder, before looking ahead once more. Quite contrare to what some may believe, the Sergeant wasn't necessarily an ass to everyone. It's just that he was one of those people that wasn't easily won over, and he had a _high_ intolerance for bullshit. If you wanted respect from him, you earned it. If you wanted him to trust you, have faith in you? You fucking _earned_. _it_. And you know what? Jake had done just that. For this past year, Jake has been along with himself and Bowman on most missions. Sure, he's had to save his ass a few times, but boy, did this kid have his back. In fact, he'll find himself missing the luxury of _truly_ not having to worry about his back being covered, whenever Jake wasn't assigned to that mission in particular. They made a great team; just himself, Jake, and Bowman in general.

The thing is though... is that there _is_ a slight suspicion when it comes to the little guy. He... doesn't really talk about much where he comes from, outside of his family; very discreet. Though he is a bit shady himself, he wasn't exactly up for laying out the story of his life on a silver platter... so he could deal with that. What was _weird_ though... was how even in the _hottest_ weather, Jake wouldn't relieve himself and remove any shirt layer at all to cool off, it was _beyond_ him how the kid didn't overheat. Not to mention that when they _did_ get to shower, the kid was nowhere to be seen. He couldn't... shake that feeling that there was something he wasn't letting them in on. But hey, you know what? Frank trusted Jake, he really did. Maybe he was just looking into it a bit too much, and just needed to mind his own goddamn business.

It hadn't taken long at all for them to board a motorboat, taking them down a wide river towards their destination.

**"So what's the plan, Sarge?"** Jake asked in inquiry to Frank sitting across from him, Bowman at the rear of the small boat and controlling the motor and direction.

Frank took in a sharp sniff, a typical guy habit, before hunching over, resting his forearms on his knees and lacing his hands together as he looked between both GI's. **"We're heading to an unmarked camp, mostly infested with Viet Cong paramilitary, but supervised by NVA. One of the five Marines captured managed to get signal and make contact with our tower at base. Long story short, we're being sent in to get them outta there. As much as I hate to say this, we have to keep casualties down to a minimum. I'd love to fuck that place up, but our main priority here is getting those POW's out of there safely. Understood?"**

**"Understood, Woods."**

**"Crystal clear, Sarge."**

_About a half hour or so later..._

It'd took some time, but after parking the boat in a safe clearing, the three GI's had to hike a good few miles or so into enemy territory, occasionally pausing and allowing themselves to blend in, as unsuspecting Viet Cong paramilitary would drive by in their jeeps as if they were the most badass people alive. Jake's dealt with them before... and all he could think was _god_, what a bunch of _morons_. Sure enough, they'd approached a series of huts and housing, looking like the jungle-version of their base, just more poorly put together. Considering that it was about 0400, it was pretty quiet. Most of the night shift were out driving around the perimeter, and doing a _very_ shitty job, considering the three had already made it in. It'd been pretty obvious as to the hut that the POW's were kept in, because the loud cussing _in English_ could be heard, along with yelps of pain from the guards in charge of watching them just being fucking obnoxious, and treating them like animals.

**"I have an idea, Sarge."** Jake had voiced in a quiet whisper, causing Frank and Bowman to pause, and look to him. **"It'll make this easier."**

**"Yeah?"** Frank voiced with a quirked brow, before nodding brief. **"Alright then, shoot."**

**"The two of you should go up ahead, retrieve the POW's. Just make sure you come back the same way. I'll make sure the path is cleared for you."**

Jake had assured them, pulling the sling of the L96A1 Sniper Rifle around to his front; he wasn't just carrying that for show. **"All I need you to do is let me know when you're both heading over, I'll keep the exit as clean as I can."**He'd added, small hands in the meantime attaching the silencer, along with the infrared vision scope.

Frank personally didn't think he _needed_ a plan, he's always done well with improvising. But it's been proven to him time and time again, that others haven't called Jake a tactics expert for nothin'. Though for _this_ certain situation, he was much more pleased that he'd come up with something upon their arrival.** "Sounds good."**He confirmed, before looking to Bowman and nodding off. And at that, they were off behind the corner of the closest building.

Without a second to lose, Jake got to work. It hadn't been very hard for him to crawl up the side of the nearest hut, using the bamboo stocks that jutted out a bit as leverage to hoist himself up onto the rooftop. He'd moved in lithe movements, stopping in a crouch when he _just _peaked over the top, staying silent to observe. From his bird's eye view, he could see Frank and Bowman taking care of the guards and gathering the POW's. And from that point, his view had moved to the direction they came in. Really, it was just the two Viet Cong paramilitary that stood watch at the gate to the camp; they'd really be the only potential set of eyes to catch them with the POW's sneaking off. He'd taken a few to adjust scope settings, and around that time is when Frank's whisper seeped through his walkie.

**"We're heading for you, clear the way."**

**"Copy that."** Jake rasped back through the walkie quietly, before taking a deep breath to relax himself.

He'd zoned out just about everything, resting the long barrel of the L96A1 on the peak of the roof. The infrared scope made things easier too; the heat sources, which were the guards, coming up as white silhouettes. After lining up with the first guard's head, the first shot was silently fired. After he'd watched the blood and brain matter spat out, he only had a couple seconds to move it over to the other beside him. _Just _as the other panicked guard had sucked up a breath to shout, he'd met the same fate as well. Once that was through, Jake had been quick to put the rifle on safety, and sling it over onto his back once more, and quickly climbed down. He'd made it over to the gate in silence, the only sounds other than his boots against the ground being the jungle life surrounding the camp. It was when he was in the middle of pulling the last of the two decapitated corpses into the bushes nearby by the arms, when Frank's teasing whisper rang subtly through the air.

**"Huh, you're stronger than I thought you were."**

Jake paused, looking over his shoulder with a grunt. **"Yeah, yeah... **_**erghh**_**... so is everyone accounted for?"**He'd responded in parts, heaving the body over to where he wanted it finally, and letting it drop.

**"Yeah, we're good. Let's get out of here."**

For once? The mission actually went by pretty smoothly. The axis end of things really had no idea what had just happened, but they'd be in for a reality check when morning came around, that's for sure. First things first, they'd gotten the POW's some food, then trips to the medic tents to follow. The sun was now _barely_ starting to rise back at base, the Viet Cong skies brightening _just_ a little. However, as for the moment, Jake was pretty wired, so the barracks were the _last_ place he'd be going. Instead, he'd resulted to doing what he _usually _does when he needs to kill time and relax... set dead brush on fire.

So there he was, whistling some random tune with a matchbox in his hands, lighting the flame and flicking it off onto the bushes surrounding him. A pyro, perhaps? Hah, maybe. This had gone on uninterrupted for a few minutes, until the Sergeant's voice came from a little ways behind him.

**"**_**Again**_** with the matches, Jake? You're going to get your ass ground sooner or later if you don't knock it off."**

This caused Jake to laugh, looking over his shoulder to him with an obnoxious smile and a shrug. **"I'll deal with it when it happens. Besides, what could they do? After all, they need me out here. I don't care if I get a slap on the wrist."**

Frank ended up chuckling at that with a groan of a mix of amusement and exasperation to follow. **"You are **_**such**_** a shit..."**He'd spoken through a chuckle, a hand coming up and pinching the bridge of his nose, smirk across his face.

**"Well **_**yeah**_**. I wouldn't be **_**me**_** if I weren't, Sarge."**

**"Puh, yeah... got that right."** Frank had walked up to where Jake stood, pulling out a clean Cuban stogie from his pocket and unwrapping it. **"Put one of those matches to good use for a change, yeah? Light me up."**He'd held the tip of the cigar over towards him, and the Corporal had done so, lighting the tip and adding the flame to the dying fire of one of the other shrubs.

**"Shouldn't you be getting some shut-eye?"**

**"Heh,**_** me**_**? **_**Sleeping**_**? Good one,"** Frank mused, snorting out a laugh and shaking his head. **"Nah, don't worry about it, small fry. I'm alright."** A few comfortable seconds of silence had passed as he took a long drag, before the Sergeant spoke again, nudging the Corporal's tattooed arm with his elbow. **"That's some kickass ink right there. Have you always had that?"**

**"Huh? Oh, heh, yeah."** Jake raised his upper left arm a little and glanced down at it, before going back to his match flickery. **"Had it before I enlisted too. The phoenix is a powerful bird in folklore and whatnot, and I felt that it symbolized me the most."**

Frank could admire the fact that the boy actually _thought_ before he jotted ink onto himself forever, but at the same time, he couldn't help but look off in the distance with a slight smirk, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his fatigues as the other arm was bent, bringing his cigar to his lips. **"Well in that case, you should've gotten a monkey or a rat."**He teased, exhaling a long trail of smoke off to the side afterwards.

That made Jake let out a hearty laugh, a balled fist raising and punching the Sergeant's arm. **"Whatever, ma-**_**yowwwtch, ey**_**!"** He'd yelped. Ehehe, right after he'd made contact with the Sergeant's bicep area with his fist, Frank held his cigar in his mouth with his teeth, so his hand could be free to clasp around Jake's small wrist, and twist his arm rather hard. **"Okay! **_**Okay**_**, I give!"** He'd ranted out in submission to that retaliation. **"Gahd..."** He grunted out afterwards, rolling his arm cap back into place and rubbing it, eyes narrowing up to Frank. However, a rather impish grin grew onto his face, nodding off in the direction of the tattoo located on his left forearm. **"I'd say you nailed it with your bulldog tattoo over there. Looks just like you."**He teased with a snort.

**"Oh-ho, ohh, that hurt!"** Frank responded in sarcasm with a laugh to follow. None of his subordinates would have the _balls _to give him a hard time like that, but hey, he could take one or two, especially since he dished them out like hotcakes to the kid on a daily basis.

They'd both calmed down from the laughter, looking off for a moment. And that was when Jake inquired nonchalantly, looking up to Frank as he did so. **"So we get leave after this, don't we? What're you going to do with your time? ...Any girl you've got waitin' for you back home?"**

Frank practically choked on his next big inhale of cigar fumes, coughing a bit. **"****Hah, _what_? I don't think so. Women can't stand me long enough to let alone **_**wait**_** for me."** Yep, he was either 'the biggest asshole on the planet', or 'he never opened up'. Broads just seemed to care less on what happened in the world they lived in, and never understood the severity of his duties. Keeping his country safe and out of harm's way was his greatest priority right now; last thing on his mind was finding 'the one'. You fuckin' kidding?

**"Yeah? Huh, I wonder why..."** Jake amused in teasing sarcasm of his own.

Frank scoffed, playfully giving Jake a light shove. **"Anyway, I don't know what the hell I'm going to do. Maybe I'll go check out a state I haven't been to before. I **_**could**_** go back to Philly, but fuck, I don't have any reason to head back..."**

That seemed to be an unintentional tender subject that the Corporal had poked at, so he just decided to let it slide. **"Well hey. If anyone deserves a vacation, it's you Sarge." **He'd spoken in a more positive note.

This caused Frank's eyes to slide over and down to the Corporal beside him, a small grin growing. **"Yeah... I do. But out here is all I know. Probably won't be able to stand it for very long back home, I'll end up requesting my off-time to be cut in half like I always do."**

**"Pff... I think it's just because you can't blow shit up in the States and get away with it like you can out here."**

"_**Oh**_** shit, you saw **_**right**_** through me, didn't you?"**Frank mused with a laugh, a large hand coming up and ruffling Jake's hair as if he were a dog.

**"**_**Ehhh**_**, cut it out!"**Jake whined a bit, a hand of his own coming up and smacking his away.

A couple seconds of recomposing themselves came next... but for the next inquiry from the Sergeant, Jake hadn't nearly been expecting.

**"Are you injured down in your core, Jake?"** He'd thrown out... rather randomly, his chin motioning to his stomach area. **"I caught sight of some gauze down there earlier, I didn't know you were wounded."**

**"Huh? Oh... yeah, **_**that**_**..."** Jake had suddenly looked down to the ground, seeming to become a tad bit tense. **"It's nothin'. Just had some shrapnel from being too close to a lethal a few weeks ago. It's not a big deal."**He'd spoken in a casual tone of voice, as if he wasn't thinking too much of it.

**"**_**Really**_**..."** Frank rose a brow, eyeing Jake for a moment. ...Nah, obviously he was just fine, he'd gone through this rescue mission that they'd accomplished without a hitch. **"Alright. Just wonderin'."**

...Then there came that hunch of his again. He was much more observant than he got credit for, and he'd noticed how Jake almost seemed like a deer caught in the headlights. He'd kept his gaze on him for a bit after... before deciding to just let it go and look forward. If the kid were smart... he'd come clean with whatever it was that he was hiding. It should've been _more_ than obvious that the Sergeant was onto him now.


	3. Bottoms Up!

**MISSION:**** BOTTOMS UP!  
><strong>**LOCATION:**** SEBASTIAN, FLORIDA  
><strong>**DATE:**** SEPTEMBER 04, 1962  
><strong>**EXTRACTION TEAM****: SERGEANT FRANK WOODS & COMPANY... AS FAR AS HE KNOWS.**

He'd been on leave for about a week and a half now... eh, it was alright. Turns out that he needed more sleep than he realized. After he'd landed on the base in St. Augustine and hit the sack in their military housing, apparently he'd slept for _fourteen_ hours. For the first three days or so, he'd been sluggish and out of it, his body _finally_ feeling the aftermath of how much he pushes it too far out there._ Arghh..._ for bein' a thirty-two year old, he currently felt like he was fuckin' sixty. Slowly but surely though, Frank begun to pull himself back together, and got to a point where he was at least _physically moving_ and going places. Hell, it was his first time to Florida and all. Why _this _state? He wanted to be somewhere that would be nice this time of year. Not somewhere boiling hot, but not cold as hell either. It was either trekking it all the way to California, or heading down to Florida, which would be easier in the long run when it came to flying back out. Bowman currently wasn't with him, instead flying back to Atlanta to spend time with his wife and two kids. He's seen pictures of the little tikes he has; hopefully they're as proud of their daddy as he is.

Not too long ago, he'd actually ran into an old buddy of his that he's known since his time in the Korean War; he was _more_ than thrilled to see that Sergeant Derek Michaels was still alive. Apparently he and his fiancé just bought a house down there, and had insisted that he'd take their guest room in the town of Sebastian, instead of the average living arrangements provided by the base. Frank was a simple guy, but hey, he wasn't going to complain. Plus, he and Derek had a lot to catch up on to begin with. Tonight in particular, Derek and his fiancé, Pamela, had insisted on going out to this great bar on the shores of Sebastian, called the _Sebastian Cabana_. It's about time he has some decent booze, rather than just drinking stale beer or whatever the bases transatlantic manage to get their hands on.

The place was pretty packed, but not overly so. It wasn't too rowdy, and at the same time wasn't completely calm. It had an overall nice atmosphere, a bunch of people coming around for drinks and a good time. That was definitely plausible too, considering that the cabana was right on the shore to begin with; the smell of cinders and smoke lingered in the air from a bonfire out in the sand not too far off. Florida _had_ to be one of his favorite states now, what a fucking _beautiful_ place; why the hell had he never thought to come here before?

As for the moment, Frank was sitting back in one of the chairs at the various tables that were scattered out in the deck area across from Derek and Pam. He was a bit slouched for more comfort, just kickin' back with his half-smoked stogie in one hand, the other raising the glass of aged Jim Beam Whiskey and taking a swig of it. He was currently in a normal pair of sneakers and jeans, with a white cotton tee that clung to his form, a dark charcoal gray short-sleeve overshirt worn unbuttoned. It was a bit weird, not being in some form of military uniform... though he _did_ have his dogtags around his neck, that would never change. Good drinks, great company, actually being able to _relax_? Talk about something he's missed; though... heh, he's curious as to how long he'll miss it _for_ this time around.

**"Please excuse me, I have to use the ladies' room."** Pam had excused herself with a smile, and pecked Derek on the cheek before heading off. She was your typical mousey blonde, it didn't surprise him that Derek ended up falling for a girl like that in the long run. Frank had let out a deep sigh of contentment, being comfortable in the small amount of silence. It hadn't lasted long though, Derek was soon to speak up.

**"Man... each generation of young women just keep getting hotter and hotter..."** Derek spoke, longingly gazing off after a group of young-looking women, giggling and gossiping with eachother at one of the tables. Now _this_ caused Frank to let out a hearty laugh.

**"If ya keep letting your dick think for ya, it's going to get you in a load of trouble. Pam's good for you, don't blow it."**Frank had told him flat out; heh, he was entertained though. Derek always seemed willing to stick his junk into just about any chick back in their prime when he'd first met him too.

**"Yeah, yeah I know that..."**

**"You**_** do**_**, huh?"** Well? Heh... he couldn't control the guy, and wasn't about to go out of his way to try to. He just hoped that Derek wouldn't be a dumbass and ruin a good thing, that's all. Frank had looked back over to the group of girls, quirking a brow. Heh, yeah, they were certainly pretty little dolls alright... they looked fragile though, like if you were too rough with 'em, they'd break in half. Sure, that's how women were percepted in this day and age anyway, but _still_... the helpless factor got on his nerves a bit.

However... this was when his eyes caught sight with a pair of the most _tantalizing_ legs he's ever seen. His mind blanked out for a moment, both eyebrows absentmindedly rising as he proceeded to look this lady over. She had the _perfect_ mix, being slender and toned in the arms, legs and stomach, then widening out and curving more in the thigh and hips, along with having _quite_ the impressive rack, he might add, creating a shapely hourglass. She had mocha-hued skin, and dark hair that was cut very short (think pixie cut) , and it certainly suited her. Then, Frank's gaze had finally landed on her face, and _boy_ was it stunning. She was currently conversing with the bartender, and the way her face lit up when she smiled just pulled it all together. Though... he couldn't quite explain why, but... he felt as if he's _met_ this chick before. You'd figure he'd remember someone as drop dead _gorgeous_ as her, though.

**"...And here you're givin' **_**me**_** shit about being a dog, Frank."** Derek mused, watching his pal with his arms folded, face rather smug.

Eheh, Frank hadn't realized he'd totally zoned out, chuckling and blinking out of it, and sitting back up once more. **"I don't belong to anyone though, **_**Derek**_**. I can look all I want."** He'd shot a boyish smirk Derek's way, before looking back to the woman once again. It was obvious she was young, yes... but with the way she carried herself was so much more different than you'd expect for someone in her age quartile. He already knew how it'd go down if he approached her, though. Hell... he wasn't exactly the most approachable person to begin with. Most men were scared of him out in the warzone, and it certainly didn't change when he was back in the States either, with everyone in general. It was too bad too... because _damn_ was this lady _fine_.

Was it just him? ...Or was that _tattoo_ ink he'd caught sight of? A lady with ink? What _is_ this? It'd flat out intrigued him, seeing some kind of script that was small, and vertically traveling up the lower part of her right calf. Women never had ink... and normally a man wouldn't _want_ a woman with ink, it was a masculine trait. Once again though, this mystery girl just pulled it off _so_ fucking well for some reason. Just as he was getting more hot-blooded by the second just watching this girl, that's when she'd switched sides, since her bartender friend was serving another patron. Her left side was revealed, and _just_ as he was about to marvel on the large, _colorful_ amount of tattoo ink she had on her arm, it'd hit him as if he'd ran head-on into a goddamn freight train.

_-MINIATURE FLASHBACK-_

_**"That's some kickass ink right there. Have you always had that?"**_

_**"Huh? Oh, heh, yeah."** Jake raised his upper left arm a little and glanced down at it, before going back to his match flickery. **"Had it before I enlisted too. The phoenix is a powerful bird in folklore and whatnot, and I felt that it symbolized me the most."**_

_Frank could admire the fact that the boy actually thought before he jotted ink onto himself forever, but at the same time, he couldn't help but look off in the distance with a slight smirk, his other hand tucked into the pocket of his fatigues as the other arm was bent, bringing his cigar to his lips.**"Well in that case, you should've gotten a monkey or a rat."**_

_-END MINIATURE FLASHBACK-_

There's no _way_ that somebody could've jacked the Corporal's ink idea, especially a _chick_ at that. Frank's eyes had _immediately_ flicked up to the girl's face once more, and now that he had a clearer view from her switching sides? His brows furrowed, eyes wide in flat out _shock_ and disbelief, _extreme_ disbelief for what he was seeing. How did he _not_ recognize that face? Sure, it may not be covered in war grime and whatnot, but _holy fuck_! And just like that, everything just fucking clicked, everything made _so_ much fucking sense now! What the gauze was used for, why she tensed when he called her out on it, and everything before!

**"Uh... hey, are you alright man?"**

Frank didn't know whether to be pissed off, or blown off his rocker... how about a mix of both? One of his most reliable, capable men... _wasn't even a man_! How did he not fucking see it? Now that it was so _fucking_ obvious, he realized how he'd just been blinded out of the mere _zero_ likelihood of a woman even _succeeding_ with getting out to the front. Then again... she probably knew that'd be the case. How in the _fuck_ did she even get this far? Get past the damn physical, even? They'd be _bound_ to notice a few fuckin' things!

Without even responding to Derek, he'd swiped at his whiskey and downed the rest of it, grunting a bit from the harsh burn he'd gotten because of it. **"I'll be right back."** He'd spoken in a gruff, more focused fashion, and trudged off in the girl's direction. As he took long-legged strides, he took in a deep, _deep_ intake of his cigar, flicking the ashes carelessly and putting the stump of it out in a nearby ashtray, and leaving it be. He'd taken a few deep breaths to calm himself down, rounding the bar perimeter so that he approached the girl from _behind_ instead. Frank had _oh_ so casually leaned his back against the high counter surface beside where she sat, folding his arms over his chest. He was silent for a couple minutes... being as discreet as possible, because he wanted some clarification. ...And boy, did he get it.

**"...And I tomahawked that fucker **_**right**_** in the face! It was crazy, Kayla; I actually saw brains for the first time when I did that."** She'd portrayed with the eccentric facial expressions and everything, not to mention the potty-mouth. Her voice was a sultry alto, lower than the average woman's... but it didn't sound too far off from the tone he _normally_ heard out of Fox. ...So it really _was_ him-er, _her_. ...Well wasn't _this_ a mindfuck if he knew one.

**"What part of **_**classified**_** don't you understand, small fry? You could get us **_**all**_** maimed for spilling information out like that."**He'd used in the usual affirmative tone he would with her during missions themselves.

_[ TWO-MINUTES BEFOREHAND... ]_

**"Alright, there's this story I **_**have**_** to tell you. But you can't repeat it, alright?"** The girl had insisted with risen brows, wanting a confirmation from the shorter, paler girl across from her.

**"I've never repeated any of the **_**others**_** you've told me, right?" **The bartender countered with a teasing smirk and rose an eyebrow in return.

**"Heh, yeah, I guess you're right. ...As far as I know, anyway."** The girl teased back to her with narrowed eyes and a grin. So at that, the girl begun to explain all about... well? A raid carried out by a mix of Marines and SOG that'd taken place about a month before the Rescue Zulu mission, and she'd ran out of ammo and resulted to just her and her pal Gustavo... the name she'd deemed her Tomahawk with. Ah, she couldn't describe how _great_ it felt, to... well? Look like her own fucking _gender_ for a change! No purposely-baggy military gear, or strapping her chest and core in tightly padded gauze so that she'd appear flat and boxey. Her skin could finally _breathe_. She was currently in a pair of black wedge heels that strapped around the ankles, with a pair of darkwash denim high-waisted shorts with a hem that ended just below her ass. On her top half was a deep midnight blue short-sleeved blouse, showing a subtle-but-obvious amount of cleavage, that buttoned up in the front that she had tucked in to her shorts, having a small black belt synching her in at the natural waist. Fashion during this decade just wasn't made for her body-type, she was no stick. So she stuck with the 50's garb, it suited her more. In the face, she kept a natural look, just with a hint of blush, mascara to bring out her lashes, and simple chapstick to keep the natural color of her lips. But _man_, she didn't realize how much she missed... well, looking how she _should_ for a change!

As she'd continued to tell one of her most _trusted_ friends, Kayla, the owner and tender of this place, her story, she couldn't help but feel... a bit on edge. As she spoke, she'd constantly be looking around the place, the hairs of her neck on end. ...Great. Nothing sucked more than feeling like you were being watched in a place _full_ of people. But ah, whatever. It could all just be in her head, having that inevitable paranoia at all times from her line of work. She'd been standing at the bar counter, leaning on it with her forearms resting on the counter's surface, fingers laced together as she spoke to Kayla. Oh boy... she wasn't _nearly_ as prepared for what was going to happen.

**"...And I tomahawked that fucker **_**right**_** in the face! It was crazy, Kayla; I actually saw brains for the first time when I did that."** She'd concluded with a satisfied smirk, Kayla giving her an astonished look with a laugh to follow.

**"Whoa! Really? Holy **_**shit**_**!"** Heh, yeah... good thing nobody cared to tune into their conversation, ehehe. Or at least she thought so.

**"What part of **_**classified**_** don't you understand, small fry? You could get us **_**all**_** maimed for spilling information out like that."**

...

_[ BACK TO ACTUAL TIME ]_

She tensed, all of the blood leaving her face as that voice spoke. She knew that voice _anywhere_. _ANYWHERE_. Not to mention there was only _one_ man that called her 'small fry' constantly. ...Not to mention that subtle air of cigar smoke suddenly hung around her, too. ...If only Kayla could shoot her in the head with her mind, from the look she'd been giving her across the counter. Kayla was just confused, looking between her and the man that seemed to know who _she_ was.

God... she did _not_ want to turn around. But she had no choice. She somehow managed to breathe again after she'd pretty much thrown up her heart from how fast it'd leapt up into her throat. She'd slowly looked over to her right, where the voice came from... and sure enough, at the sight of the Sergeant, she cringed. _'FUCK. FUCKITY FUCK FUCK FUCK!'_

**"Uhh... Cara? ...Is everything alright?"**

The Sergeant had given her a look that was cold as ice, before gazing off and away from her. She was scared out of her fucking mind, just _so_ thrown off, that she wasn't even sure _what_ to think. **"Well..."** She'd looked back to Kayla as she asked her if everything was alright, giving her that silent, mutual stare that close galpals were capable of having. **"...I'll call you later, okay? ...Or maybe tomorrow. I'm uhm..."** She looked back to Frank nervously, not liking where this was most likely going to end up. **"...I'm not sure how things are going to turn out from this point on."**

Obviously Kayla was concerned, her face becoming more somber. **"Well I'm here if you need anything. Call me as soon as you can."**

Cara was feeling the nerves building up BIG TIME, nodding with a quick **"Mhm."** She'd looked back up and over to Frank, before lifting herself off from the counter, and moving around so that she stood in front of him. **"...I can explain, Sarge. ...All I ask is that I may do so with you in private."**

**"Well then let's go fuckin' talk, then."**

Aye... he didn't sound happy at all, not one bit. He'd sharply looked back to her, before nodding off towards the doorways to one of the other deck areas, for her to follow. Not awaiting her response, he'd stalked off, and naturally, she'd followed behind like a scolded puppy with the tail tucked between the legs. Nobody had paid too much attention to them as they made their way through the other deck area, walking down the stairs and out onto the concrete pathways near the sandy, midnight shores of Sebastian. It'd been a _very_ uncomfortable silence, until Frank finally snapped at her.

**"**_**Spill**_**, Fox!"**

**"Alright, **_**alright**_**! Goddamn..."**

**"What the**_** fuck**_** is goin' on in that head of yours? Do you realize the severity of this? How much trouble you could get into for impersonating a soldier? A SOG member, no less! Or how much **_**my**_** ass is on the line because of it too? And Bowman's?"**

**"Whoa,**_** hey**_**!"** Cara snapped, grabbing his arm to yank him to a stop, before letting go and pointing a harsh index finger at him, brown eyes glaring daggers up at him. **"Don't you fucking **_**dare**_** start patronizing me! I am not **_**impersonating**_** a SOG member, I **_**am**_** a fucking SOG member!"**

Frank was just _fuming_, and opened his mouth to _continue_ to explode on her, but she'd beat him to it, and shut him right back up.

**"Every **_**goddamn**_** thing I've done out there should **_**prove**_** that I have **_**every**_** right to be out there like the rest of you! I **_**earned**_** my place in the S.O.G.! Every time I've covered your ass, every time I've made things easier for everyone else, gotten nicked or shot? I've made **_**just**_** as much sacrifices for **_**our**_** country's liberty and safety as any decent GI should!" **She flat out yelled in his face.

As _much_ as Frank wanted to keep fighting and arguing... she made _very_ valid points. It _killed_ him on the inside to admit that she was right, but... well, what could he say? So hence, he'd ended up remaining silent, glaring right back down to her as he took in deep breaths to calm down the rage that blew up because of this.

Cara didn't _want_ it to result to fighting, this could've been handled a lot better. But hey, leave it to Sarge to blow _everything_ out of proportion. Seeing that he was calming down though, she could _finally_ bring her defenses down. She took in a deep, silent inhale to relax herself, exhaling and taking a step back from him, for comfortable breathing room. Her face became much calmer.

**"...It's still me, Sarge."** She'd spoken in a more easygoing fashion, bringing a hand to press flat to her collarbone area to motion to herself, watching him with risen eyebrows and a small grin. **"My tits and vagina have always been there. The only difference is that now you're aware of it."** She pointed out nonchalantly, an amused smirk forming after. Well? It was true.

Frank wanted to stay pissed off, it was just his nature... but how could he? Now knowing that she was a chick, and for the fact that she was spewing out vulgar words like always just struck him as humorous. His features didn't budge, but the amusement was _clearly_ seen in his eyes. His aquamarines peered long and hard into her chocolate browns for a long few seconds... until he'd given in and sighed in a deep, exasperated fashion, shoulders slumping as he shook his head a bit. One hand was soon placed on his hip, as his other came up and ran down his face. **"**_**Just**_** when I thought you couldn't agitate me more than you already do... You're **_**killin'**_** me, Jake... or wait... **_**Cara**_**, right?"** He removed his hand from his face, it retreating to the pocket of his jeans as he looked back over to her.

A serene smile crossed her features, a small nod to follow. **"Yep. When we head back though, you should probably just stick to Fox like you usually do."**

**"Eh..."** He'd waved the matter off, turning his back to her as he faced the blackened ocean, watching as the moon reflected on the waves. He just couldn't believe this... well, technically he _could_, given the circumstance. But you get what he's trying to say.

Cara allowed a moment of silence to pass... being quiet to approach the Sergeant's side, tucking her thumbs into the belt-loops of her shorts as she looked off to the ocean as well. **"...Thanks. ...For not turning me in. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I couldn't continue to serve." **It was obvious that this was the case, or else Frank would've surely just left her hanging there and would've reported her in immediately.

**"You're one of the best soldiers on my SOG team, I can't afford to lose you. Hell, the **_**pentagon**_** can't afford to lose you."** Frank pointed out matter-of-factly, as if his reasoning was obvious. It was the truth though... and little did he realize how much admitting that meant to her. Hey, to be honest, she had more balls than most men he knew. ...However, now the question rose. **"How did you even **_**make**_** it out to the front anyway? Do they just let **_**anyone**_** waltz into basic training now?"** He'd inquired, looking back over to her in bewilderment.

She chuckled lightly, shaking her head. **"Oh god, no. To be honest, my most stressful amount of time for me **_**was**_** as basic training."** She begun, looking back up to him. **"The only reason why I've gotten away with this thus far, is because of the connections I have. It helps when you're close with a military nurse, and a secretary for the Pentagon's military logging sector. ...I basically had the physical done with accurate results privately, but then my records were altered to match up to being male on document. So I was basically flown over to recruit training camp with the records of having my physical **_**at**_** the facility already accounted for. It was a matter of pulling it off, and being at certain places within the recruit training camp at the appropriate time. After that though?"** Cara looked back off to the ocean, puffing out her lower lip a little and shaking her head lightly. **"No questions were ever asked. People won't question what's written down on paper. The most I'd dealt with from that point on were 'girly man' jokes and 'midget' jibes." **At the last bit, her eyes slid back up to Frank, narrowing as she watched him with an accusing grin.

Frank had processed everything she said, going quiet for a moment. **"...Damn. Heh, that sounds fucking **_**complicated**_**."**

**"It was, it **_**really**_** was, no doubt."** Cara added with a slight laugh, looking down to the sand nearby. **"So hopefully that assures you that there aren't more of me."**

**"**_**What**_**? Hah!"** Frank laughed heartily, shaking his head. **"As harsh as it sounds, I think any other dame would've been sent home after day one. You're **_**officially**_** the gutsiest woman I know. Fuckin' **_**crazy**_**..."** He mused, looking back and down to Cara with a warm, fond smile. Before, it'd be like looking fondly to a close friend, but now... he wasn't sure what was going on in his head, but it was just... _different_. He ignored the warmth beginning to resonate within him, clearing his throat and looking back off to the ocean. **"Don't let that get to your head though. Like hell I'll lighten up on ya."**

Cara snorted out a laugh, shooting up a hand to muffle it. **"**_**You**_**? I didn't think you were capable anyway."** Silence followed again, before it was _her_ turn to be bewildered. **"...So what the **_**hell**_** are you doin' here in Florida, of all places?"** _Man_, was it just _typical_ that this happened. What are the odds of her fucking CO deciding to be in the very same state, much less the same _town_ and _bar_ for that matter? Aye... chance was just _not_ on her side, was it?

Frank chuckled, **"Heh, I don't know. It was either here or Cali, I wanted to check out a warm state for a change. Looks like you can't completely relax wherever you go, ah?" **He teased, shooting her a shit-eating smirk and a risen brow.

**"That's not funny."**Cara responded flatly with a slight pout, looking off and away.

Heh.. nope, she was certainly the same ol' shrimp that he knew very well. ...Though whether he wanted to admit it or not, this had changed things. He just didn't realize how much so at that given moment. Now that things had calmed down, he'd finally realized that uhh... Derek and Pam were probably going to flip shit if he didn't get back over to them. **"We'd better head back, I've got a couple people wondering where I went off to." **Frank told her, jutting a thumb over his shoulder.

**"Oh yeah, yeah no problem. Actually, I'm just going to head home now. So you have a good one, Sarge. See you... well I don't know, heh."** She was about to wave him off, when he interrupted that.

**"Wait, wait. ...You **_**live **_**here?"**

**"Huh? Oh, yeah." **Cara shot a thumb herself back over her shoulder in the opposite direction along the shore. **"There's a strip of shore-houses a click from here, one of 'em is mine. I walked over here."**

**"Yeah?"** Hah, well he wasn't expecting _that_. **"Must be nice. I'm stuck with a former partner and his wife-to-be. Not that I don't appreciate their hospitality, but ehh..." **He scrunched up the bridge of his nose, shrugging and making a face.

**"Heh, say no more, I know how that goes."** More often than not before she began her time in the service, she'd often been the third wheel. And _boy_, was it fucking boring and annoying. Soon after that comment, a thought struck her. **"You know... if uh, if you want to, you're welcome to have the spare bedroom at my place, if you're tired of that scene. You could even house-sit for me, I'll be heading off on a small road-trip tomorrow anyways."**

Frank silently eyed her for a moment, before looking back over his shoulder towards the Cabana. ...Huh. Staying with Fox at her house, someone who he could actually _enjoy_ himself around, or to be stuck with endless bickering over pointless things, and awkward moments when they want time alone. ...Yeah, the first option sounded a hell of a lot better. Don't get him wrong, it was great catching up with Derek, but... he could only stand so much. Or in his case alone, so _little_. **"It'll be your burden of having another mouth to feed, but hey, anything to get out of where I'm at now. What's your address? After I get my shit, I'll have 'em drop me off."**

Cara laughed and nodded, **"It's cool, Sarge. Just make sure they drive near the bar and keep going. Once you get near the those houses out there, it'll be the fourth one on the strip."** She informed, pointing it out to him. Her back patio itself was actually in view, just a bit of a ways off.

**[[-AUTHOR'S NOTE-]]**

**Weeeeell? 8D It finally happened! Haha~**

**Thank you SO much for the feedback so far! I am BEYOND stoked that my fic is loved this much! =D**

**Just keep reviewing, and more chapters will be plastered on up in this bizznitch!**


	4. The Tables are Turning

**MISSION:**** AFTER BOTTOMS UP!  
><strong>**LOCATION:**** SEBASTIAN, FLORIDA  
><strong>**DATE:**** SEPTEMBER 04, 1962  
><strong>**EXTRACTION TEAM****: SERGEANT FRANK WOODS & CORPORAL "FOX" MCPHERSON**

It'd been about an hour and a half since the whole Cabana incident. Probably around, oh... 2315 in the late evening? At least the last time she'd checked, that was the case. Man, talk about one of the most stress-induced situations of her _life_ right there. Just the mere _odds_ of Sergeant Woods being there and finding her out amused the hell out of her, causing her to just laugh to herself when she'd been on the short trek home. Cara had gone through with normal procedure of turning on a dim light here and there, sliding the back door open to let the fresh ocean breeze inside. She wasn't sure what time the Sergeant was going to get there, or if he changed his mind or not; either way though, there was something she had to tweak on her 10 before she hit the sack. _Oh_, yes. Her brand-spankin'-new Harley Davidson Hummer motorcycle, Super 10 addition that she'd bought herself upon returning home. Heh, it's where most of her paycheck went, but hey; her birthday was in a couple months, and she doubted she'd be around here to get herself a _not_-so-little something.

Since she was home, she'd gotten more comfortable, being in a pair of old denim shorts that were frayed at the ends, along with a baggy Johnny Cash tee that was too big for her, hanging off one shoulder and revealing a single black bra strap. Hey, normally there _wouldn't_ be any bra; but that just wasn't going to roll with her, _especially_ since she was going to have a man in the house with her... If he showed up, that is. She'd been sitting on her garage floor with one leg bent and the other extended out, the lights in there on bright as she was currently in the process of removing the generic shocks her baby came with, and replacing them with a much better, more _durable_ set of shocks so that it would last longer, up in the front wheel suspension area. She had her garage door up, figuring it'd be easier to just spot the only house with herself actually in view.

Her neighborhood had been silent, except for her noise-making of course. So when she'd heard the subtle noise of tires rolling along the pavement of the main road, she paused, looking up to see headlights pulling up into her driveway. She watched the vehicle intently for a moment. And soon enough, the door on the passenger's side opened, and out stepped the Sergeant, causing her to smirk. **"It's about time you got here! I was beginning to think that you weren't coming!"**

**"So you **_**know**_** her. ...Ahah, **_**now**_** it makes sense."** Derek had teased, giving Frank beside him in the car just a moment before the most pompous smirk he could muster. You bet he'd drank her in at the cabana earlier too; he just got away with it because the Sergeant was doing the same. Before he could make any more comments that would lead to him _explaining_ just how he knew her? Yeah, the Sergeant was quick to nip _that_ in the ass. Now he was kind of wishing Pam would've just come along with them instead of staying at their house; then maybe he wouldn't have had to deal with this.

**"Yeeeah, yeah,"** Frank had grunted out as he reached into the backseat and grabbed his military duffel bag full of his stuff, opening the door on his side and stepping out.

_"It's about time you get here! I was beginning to think that you weren't coming!"_

He'd paused to shoot her a quick grin, before facing Derek once more, hand clasped on the edge of the car door as he leaned in. **"It was great seeing you, man. Take care."**

**"Yeah, you too Frank. It'd be nice if the next time I saw you wasn't in what,_ another_ six years?"**

Frank chuckled sheepishly with a small shrug to follow. **"Sorry about that, I'll do what I can. Can't help it if I'm busy."** If anything, he should be more aware from him letting him in on just what his line of work _is_ nowadays. And at that, he'd shut Derek's car door, and backed away and waved him off as he pulled out. A sigh escaped him, watching his friend drive off. Gah, what a character he was. It was great spending time with him, but it was definitely the right decision on changing plans.

Now that he _could_ safely pay attention to Cara, he'd turned around and begun making his way towards her. _Jesus_... she even looked downright delicious in her 'at home' wear. It was..._ beyond_ a weird spot for the Sergeant to be in his mind currently. In his head, he was still getting used to the idea of Fox _being_ a chick. Then on the other hand, his _other_ head had absolutely _no_ problem adjusting to the change. All he could think was thank _God _that nobody could hear his thoughts besides himself.

He let out a low whistle, his free hand going into his pocket as he approached her, looking over that _gorgeous_ piece of machinery. **"A Harley, huh? Heh... why am I not surprised."**Frank mused in a deadpan tone of voice, causing Cara to let out a laugh.

**"Hell yeah. I've always wanted one of these..."**Cara's voice trailed off, eyes fixated with her mind more focused on what she was tinkering with.

**"It doesn't look like any I've seen before though, it seems a bit different."**

**"That's because it is. It's a brand new model that just released this year, called the Super 10. It's more withstandable, and I love everything about it overall. I just had to go and get a new pair of custom shocks."** She explained, smirking mischievously. **"That's the only way it'll be able to survive with how rough I am with it."**

**"Hah, good call. ...I'm not going to lie, it's weird as hell to see a chick working on a bike and **_**knowing**_** what the hell she's doing." **Frank mused, slowly pacing around the bike to get a better look at it.

**"Ha-**_**ha**_**, **_**well**_**, I'm not a gearhead about much. But when it comes to these bikes and any form of artillery, I'm better at fixing it myself rather than relying on someone else to do it for me."** Cara had told him rather smug, pausing in her work to tell him so. **"...Bruce is a beaut, ain't he?"**

Frank stopped in observing, looking to her with a risen brow and a tilted head. **"...**_**Bruce**_**?"**

**"Heh,**_** yeah**_**. My bike here, Bruce."** Cara rose a hand, fondly patting the front wheel. **"As in Bruce Wayne. Y'know, Batman?"**

...And within those few seconds, she'd gone from being pretty cool to the clown that he's more used to. Then followed exasperation. **"**_**What**_**? Aww **_**hell**_**, Cara..."** He couldn't help but think an amused '_why me_' as he chuckled lightly, bringing up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. Heh, he seemed to do that a lot around her, didn't he? **"You're such a fuckin' moron sometimes, I swear."**

**"**_**You**_** love it."**She antagonized in a dorky fashion, biting her lower lip as she looked up to him with playful eyes.

God _damnit_, it was, dare he think it, _cute_, yet hot at the same time with that face she made at him. Good _fucking_ lord, was he going to be dealing with these thoughts all night? Frank cleared his throat, before looking past her and over to the opened doorway that led to the inside of her house. **"...So are you going to show me where to go? Or are you keeping me out here?"**He inquired, more on the joking note towards the last bit.

**"Huh? Oh, right,"** Cara had been quick to set her tools down and hop up onto her feet. **"C'mon, this way."** She'd shot him a grin as she passed, waving a hand over her shoulder in motioning for him to follow. She lead him across the main living room area, and down into the hallway to the very end, approaching the opened doorway on the right. She extended her arm in, and flicked on the light. **"And here we are."**

Like the rest of her house, it was quaint with neutral tones; she'd shoot herself before she put any kind of girly floral print _anywhere_. He should be comfortable in there; she's passed out on the bed in there a couple times just because she could. She was _just_ about to open her mouth to insinuate the quick tour, but before she could get it out, her phone rang. Cara whipped her head off in its' direction in the kitchen, before looking to him with a small, sheepish smile, holding up an index finger. **"I'll be right back, just make yourself at home."**She'd insisted, before bolting off.

She'd skidded onto the kitchen tile, slamming her arms onto the counter to bring herself to a stop, before reaching over and swiping up the chord phone. **"Hello?"**

**"Hey, Cara."** Spoke Kayla's voice, relief in her tone from the other end.

**"Oh, hey! I was actually going to call you in a few minutes."**

**"It's okay. I know I told you to call me, but I wanted to make sure you at least got home."**

Cara grinned and nodded, **"Oh, well yeah, I'm here. Thanks for checkin' in on me."**

**"You're welcome. If anything I had to, from the way you left my Cabana earlier."**

**"Heh, nah, I get you, it's cool."**

**"...So**_** you **_**sound like you're in a better mood. Mind on telling me what happened, there? Who was that guy?"**

Cara went silent for a second, soon cracking a smirk. **"Heh, **_**that**_** was Sergeant Woods."**

**"Wait,_ what_? _The_ Sergeant Woods? Oh _man_, you've got to tell me what happened!"**

She chuckled and nodded. **"Well **_**obviously**_**, my cover was blown. But you know what? ...He really surprised me, in a good way."**

**"Really? How?"**

**"...He's going to keep my cover up for me. Pretty much told me that it'd be a shitty move to turn me in."**

**"Ah, that's_ great_."**

**"Yep, you bet... I thought he was pretty cool to begin with, but now he's ten times more awesome than before."**

**"Seems like he's not as much of an asshole as you've told me then, huh?"**

**"Nah, he is."** Cara was quick to assure Kayla with a laugh. **"But he has his moments."**

**"You weren't kidding when it came to the looks department, too. Now that I_ do_ now it was _him _you've been telling me about? Damn!"**

**"**_**Right? **_** You should see what he normally looks like out at the front, my **_**god**_**..."** She'd looked off dreamily for a moment, before the obvious had dawned on her, causing her to smirk wider and come back down from Cloud Nine. **"And that's as far as I can go on that. He's kind of down the hall right now..."**

A very _subtle_ hint of red crossed her cheeks, her fingers of her other hand beginning to twirl the phone cord as her best galpal cackled rather evily on the other end of the phone. **"Ohh-ho-ho, **_**what**_**? He's **_**staying**_**with you now? You snatch your prey fast, don't you?"**

**"**_**Oh**_**, don't even, it's not like that."** But boy, is there a part of her that wishes it were, though. **"He was the third wheel of newlywed friends for a while, and I offered an escape from that."**

**"Uh-huh."**

Cara chuckled casually, rolling her eyes and sighing. **"**_**Fine**_**, don't believe me. Anyway, I'd better get going. Talk to you soon, kay? G'night. **_**Oh**_**, oh oh, wait. I'm going to do the swap with you tomorrow morning around ten. Yeah. Alright."** After hanging up the phone, she'd made her way out of the kitchen, and came face to face with Frank doing some wondering of his own in the living room. At the moment, he seemed to be stopped in front of the fireplace. **"What're you looking at?"**She inquired, curiously heading over to stand beside him.

A tour of this house was completely unnecessary; it was spacious, but not big enough to get lost. Needless to say, he'd scoped out the place and noted all of the exits in a jiff while she'd been blabbing on the phone about who-knows-what. So by the time she'd hung up, he was just looking around at this point, his shoes and overshirt taken off to be more comfortable in just his tee, jeans and socks. What made him pause in his overview of her house was one of the many pictures she had around that stuck out to him. Frank glanced over his shoulder to her as she approached, before reaching up for the picture and bringing it lower, so the both of them could see it better.**  
><strong>  
><strong>"...Is this your Dad?"<strong>

Cara smiled warmly upon instant sight of it. **"Nah, that's my Grandpa. He's a vet from World War II. That was taken here in St. Augustine's military base when he was brought back home from France when the war ended. Heh, I was just a little tike then."** In the picture, was a man who looked to be around fifty with a thick black mustache and dark, gentle eyes, who was knelt on the ground in 1940's military dress, arms around the little girl with long, dark hair in a frilly dress, resting his chin on her shoulder. She just looked _beyond_ happy to have her Grandfather back and well from the war. Which she was. She could remember that day as if it really _did_ happen just yesterday.

**"Damn, a Major General, at that..."** Frank had spoken in awe. **"I bet he's told you all **_**kinds**_** of stories on blowin' up Nazi's."**

**"Oh **_**fuck**_** yeah, some of the best war stories from that era you could ever hear! He's a war hero, without a doubt. He didn't make rank all the way up to 0-8 for nothing."** Cara had spoken shamelessly, with such pride in her voice. Her eyes trailed up to Frank, **"Some of the missions he was sent on were practically impossible, in some cases. He's definitely the one who has proven to me that anything is possible."**

Frank quirked a brow, looking down to her with a small, but endearing smile. So she had one kickass Grandfather, huh? Who was the fuel behind what made her do what she does, or at least it seemed that way. That did make one question in particular pop into his head though, growing curious. **"How does he feel about all of this?"**

**"Heheh,"** Cara laughed slightly, folding her arms and looking off for a moment. **"He wasn't on board, at first. Eventually though, he accepted it. That patriotic warlord side of me is a hereditary trait, you know."**

**"**_**Patriotic warlord**_**?"** Frank couldn't help it, snorting out a laugh himself as he gently placed the picture frame back up where it was. **"You sure about that, small fry?"**

**"**_**Oh**_**, you know what I mean."** She looked back to him with a slight pout with narrow eyes and a grin. **"I shouldn't have to explain myself to **_**you**_**, of all people."**

**"No-no, you've got me all wrong. Now your **_**Grandfather**_** bein' a patriotic warlord, **_**that**_** I can believe. But **_**you**_**? You're more of the squad jester."** Frank clarified to her, shit-eating smirk and all.

HAH! That was _so_ true, but it seemed so much less dignified.** "Oh-ho, **_**whatever**_**."** She'd taken in stride, just amused by how accurate his response was. **"You're such an **_**ass**_**."** As she'd spoken the last word, she'd reared back a fist and punched him in the shoulderblade. Did she learn from the first time she did that? Nope.

The Sergeant had been quick to snatch her fist in his hand again and twist it; and _that_ made her remember what came next fast. **"**_**Oh**_** no you don't!"** Cara shot out, immediately pivoting herself to pry his hand off. Before she could even get a good grip on it, Frank's other hand came around and snatched her other hand by the wrist, holding both in a vice grip.

**"You're not telling me anything I haven't heard before."**Frank's voice chimed in mischief, purposely tightening his hold as she squirmed, and eventually giving it up with a huff.

**"Yeah? Well at least you're not in denial, that's **_**somewhat**_** of an improvement."**Cara responded matter-of-factly, having that signature jackass-smirk that she'd wear out in the front quite often.

**"You just keep **_**pushing it**_**, then you just **_**push it **_**some more, don't you?" **Frank mused, voice dipping a bit low due to him leaning in towards her a bit without really thinking much about it.

Cara shrugged lightly with a daring look of her own. **"What can I say? I know what buttons I can push with you."**

He couldn't argue with that, because she _certainly_ did.

It seemed like the both of them didn't realize how rapidly swift they were to mess around and invade eachothers' personal space, and be perfectly fine with it. However, when it _did_ finally dawn on them, _Cara_ was the one to blush subtly, with a sheepish, soft laugh to follow. **"So, uh... are you going to let me go?"**

Frank had been too engrossed by what just happened, not to mention that the resonating heat from before stirred right back up again from that _obvious _spark that was there between them, and how close they were. He smirked in an amused fashion, showing just how entertained he was by this. And at that, he'd straightened himself up, and let go of both of her hands that he'd clasped onto earlier.

_Whoa_... did the air just get heavier in here, or what? **"Well, uhm... I wanted to uhh... y'know, finish up my bike out there before it gets too late. Are you hungry, or...?"**Cara had been quick to change the subject, putting her hands on the curves of her hips as she took a step back from him for a comfortable distance.

**"Huh? Oh, uh..."** Frank brought up a hand to clasp the back of his neck, looking over his shoulder towards the kitchen. **"I think I'll just get some water and hit the hay, I'm beat." **He'd told her, looking back down to her with a grin.

**"Alright, sure."** Cara replied with a nod and a small smile. **"In that case, you know where I'll be if you need anything, and uh... see you in the morning?"**

**"Yep, you got it."** Flashing her a fond, quirky grin, he'd been the one to relieve her here and head off in the kitchen's direction. **"Don't stay up too late."**

**" I won't, I won't... "**Cara waved the matter off, heading out to the garage area and shutting the door behind her as she did so.

She'd been up for a good half hour or so after she'd heard Frank's shuffling down the hallway and towards his room. Then, and _only_ then, did she allow herself to indulge in girlish fantasies... in other words, letting her mind wander back to what had just happened earlier. _Surely_ it had to all just be in her head, or one-sided, most likely. She _highly_ doubted he looked at her that way... sure, they were close, but she figured it stayed in that typical 'annoying pupil to older mentor' type of deal. _Then_ came the internal conflict of trying to get herself to let it blow over and move on, then something _else_ telling her not to ignore it, either. All she could say... is what a goddamn eventful night this was. She could _guarantee_ that when she was getting ready to go visit Kayla at the Cabana, that she wasn't _nearly_ expecting any of this. In a way though... she's a tad bit grateful. It felt good to let someone else in on it, and it made her trust in the Sergeant grow that much more.

_THE FOLLOWING MORNING..._

Cara's alarm clock had gone off at 0830, and she'd been _very_ quick to slam it off. She'd been slugging herself around to shower and get ready, it hadn't really clicked with her yet that she was going around a still-quieted house. It wasn't until she'd gotten fully dressed, and was completely awake that she realized... that the Sergeant was nowhere to be seen. Finding this to be pretty odd, she'd done a quick search around the house. Being unsuccessful, she'd quietly crept back over to the spare bedroom door, seeing it only cracked open a little. Gently getting a hold of it, she silently pushed it open a bit more... and the sight had to be _the_ most adorable thing she'd ever seen.

Frank had his head buried into the pillow, head turned to the side facing the door, laying on his stomach. He was shirtless, the sheets and covers concealing him up to mid-back level as he was passed out at the very edge of the bed. His long, muscled arm hung off the bed completely extended, knuckles resting gently against the floor because of it. Apparently her alarm hadn't made him budge at all.

Cara couldn't help it, a genuine smile crossing her features as she leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The entire time she's known the Sergeant, never _once_ has she seen him legitimately in deep slumber. He's normally _such _a light sleeper, that the slightest of noises could wake him; hell, even staring at him while he sleeps would cause him to stir and snap at you to quit watching him. Poor thing... he probably needed to let his body catch up with him for a change. By this point though, it was 0955, he needed to get his ass up.

So at that, she'd quietly crept in, heading over to the large window, raising a hand to the wand connected to the blinds. After turning them completely flat and allowing the sun to light up the room, she'd glanced back to Frank for a moment... as if mentally taking a picture. Leaving the door wide open, she'd then headed off to the garage. She put her Super 10 in neutral and backing out of her driveway while aboard, she'd then revved the engine and zoomed off down the street a ways, pulling into the driveway to a house that wasn't too far away, still in view.

In the meantime... Frank didn't really budge. That bed he was in was just _so_ fucking comfortable. If it were up to him, he _wouldn't_ have wanted to be out cold, but it just sort of happened. He was pretty much engulfed into a dreamless, blackout sleep; and _boy_, was it nice. He hadn't even heard or been aware of Cara entering, and didn't actually move until, oh... a good half-hour or so later?

He'd gradually begun to become more aware of his surroundings; the black that shaded his eyelids not being so black anymore from the blinds being open. The fresh air from the opened slide-doors in the main living room area swept its' way over and into the spare room, brushing over his face. And at that, he'd let out a subtle grunt, cracking one eye open. He stayed that way for a few more minutes, just spacing out and enjoying the luxury of laziness. What knocked him out of it though, was catching sight of Cara heading out of her room across from him and walking down the hallway.

It was easy to get himself up, and upon the sudden need to piss, he'd sauntered out into the hallway with his toothbrush in hand, making a turn into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. As an experienced soldier, it took him about ten minutes total to shower and brush his teeth. He'd thrown on a pair of clean boxers, and put on the jeans he wore from the night before and slept in. Still a bit groggy, he decided to wander out and see what the little troublemaker was up to. Hearing her out in the garage, Frank had headed over, being _highly_ surprised to see a black Chrysler 300F in the driveway. **"Where the fuck did **_**this**_** come from?" **He'd voiced in a still-groggy fashion, a hand coming up and trying to wipe any leftover sleep from his eyes with the pad of his thumb.

Cara paused in mid-packing with the trunk open, having a military duffel bag of her own in there. She lifted her head up, flashing the Sergeant a perky grin. **"Oh hey, you're up!"** She shut the trunk, and got about half-way to him, leaning against the side of the muscle car. **"**_**This**_** is my bud Kayla's car, that chick I was talking to last night. We're swapping means of transportation for my road trip, it's easier since I'll be overnighting for a day or two."** Ayeee, he looked so damn _cute_ when he was out of it! She doubted that'd last long though.

**"Right..."** Frank had forgotten that she'd be leaving today. ...Well, he supposed he couldn't complain, he'd have a nice house to himself. He'd leaned against the doorframe of the garage, crossing one ankle over the other casually and folding his arms. **"Where're you going, anyway?"**He inquired casually, not wanting to let on that he hoped it wouldn't be too far off.

His question caused Cara to grin, walking over to the hood of the Chrysler and taking a seat on it, resting her hands on her lap. **"Remember that picture? I'm heading off to see my Grandparents."** She'd nodded off behind her in that general direction. **"They live in Titusville, it's about a two-hour drive, give or take."**

**"Yeah? They'll be happy to see you, I'm sure."** It'd be good for her to spend time with whatever folks she has, it'll be a boost she needs before heading back out to the front anyway. **"You heading out right now?"**He asked, quirking a brow and tilting his head to the side a bit.

**"What time is it?"** Cara looked over to the clock she had in the garage, seeing that it read 10:34. **"Actually yeah, I'd better get going. Before I do though, I'll write down the number to the house, just in case you have any questions."**

Frank had moved so she could pass through, and followed her over to the kitchen. While she rummaged through one of the counter drawers for a pen and paper, he'd helped himself to rummaging through the fridge and cabinets; he needed to eat, maybe he'd make himself eggs or something.

Cara had followed through with writing out the number to her Grandparent's location... but thoughts caused her to pause. She hasn't forgotten how reluctant the Sergeant is to return to his hometown, and he's never spoken of any loved ones, _period_. So the obvious conclusion was made that... he didn't have anyone to come home to. He's done so much for her and countless men out there, it's just... really sad to her that he doesn't have anyone to fight for. She rose her view up to Frank, watching him as he stood in front of her refrigerator, holding the door wide open mindlessly. Gahh... now that he'd hit her soft spot, it was going to bother her unless she acted upon it. **"Come with me."** She blurted out. _Smooth_.

That snapped Frank out of what seemed to be like the toughest decision ever, what to fuckin' eat. He looked over his shoulder and over to her, quirking a brow once again. **"...What?"**

**"I think you should come with me."** Cara still stood by her word, sincerely awaiting a response.

Frank grinned, letting out a small chuckle. **"Cara..."** He'd looked back to the refrigerator, making it look like he _was_ nonchalantly browsing over again. **"I don't think your Grandparents would appreciate you bringing a complete stranger over to stay at their house. And like _hell_ I'm goin' to impose."**

**"But you're **_**not**_** a complete stranger, you're my CO."** She'd countered matter-of-factly. **"And you won't be _imposing_, they're **_**very**_** hospitable people; they'd _love_ to have new company over. My grandpa would be _thrilled_ that you're my Superior to begin with."** Hell, _she_ saw no downside to this.

**"I think I'm better off stayin' here. Besides, it's **_**your**_** off-time, and **_**your **_**family. You really should just enjoy your time with them while you can, who knows when you'll be back here in the States when you deploy again."**

Ah... he wasn't making this easy, was he? Sighing deeply, Cara removed herself from leaning on the counter to write, walking over to the other side of the refrigerator, leaning her side against it. **"You'll feel right at home there, I promise. It has that effect on everyone."** She assured him with a grin, looking up to him. **"...I just don't feel right leaving you here by yourself."**

Frank had given her a deadpan look. **"What am I, fuckin' five-years-old?"**

Cara laughed, rolling her eyes. **"That's not what I meant, and you know it. ...I don't think you should be alone for a change, that's all. I want you to come."** Her smile grew more sincere.

Fox... had picked up more about him than he originally would've liked. She's always been that way, though. Putting everyone else before herself. She'd make sure everyone else was covered before moving an inch; hell, he's even fought with her back in her 'Jake' days on how being that way was reckless, and that _he'd_ handle that end of things as the commanding officer of the SOG. And now that the tables have turned... this just showed what a big heart she had. And to be completely honest, he hasn't had someone give a damn about him _this_ much, in... well... hmm. Can't recall. It was very foreign to him, but... oddly enough, just as welcomed. She was just hitting every goddamn standard he could possibly ask for in a woman right on the nail, and his mind was putting up a huge-ass red DON'T FUCKIN' GO sign because of it. But hey... since _when_ has he ever been one to follow anything but his gut-feeling?

Frank sighed, shutting the refrigerator and shooting her a relaxed smile. Shit... just _what_ was he getting himself into with her.

What seemed like the softest expression _ever_ seen on the Sergeant's face had grown into something more familiar, a snide grin forming in replacement. **"...Well if they boot me out, you're payin' for my hotel room until we come back."**

A wave of relief washed over Cara, afraid she might have to go to stubborn measures to get him to go. Of _course_ he couldn't just give her a simple 'fine' or 'okay'. She chuckled lightly, shrugging, **"Well hey, I know that's not going to happen, so we're good."**

Frank reached out a hand, ruffling her hair like he usually would. **"I'll meet you out at the car in five, alright pipsqueak?"  
><strong>  
>Just from him touching her<em> period<em> had caused an escalated warmth, even from a simple friendly gesture like that. **"Alright. You'll be dressed, I hope. Don't want them thinking you're a hobo I picked off the street on the way over."** She teased, smirking playfully up at him, hands moving up to fix her hair after he'd screwed it up. She's seen the Sergeant shirtless before; but like hell she'd make _that _big of a deal out of it, or else he'd be less likely to keep doing it...

At that, Frank boomed out a hearty laugh, turning on his heel and heading back down the hallway. **"You kidding? I bet your Grandfather would run my ass off the property.****"**


	5. Coming Home

**"What's your grandfather's name?"**

"Carlos Muñoz. And my grandma's name is Beatrice, Bea for short."

"Carlos and Bea, huh?"

The Sergeant had shot Cara a grin, leaning the side of his temple on his knuckles, his forearm propped up on the opened window on the passenger's side of the Chrysler. Huh... that made him randomly think of the Carlos that helped them escape Santa Maria; hopefully he's still alive. He resumed looking out the window, as he'd done most of the drive over, talkin' to Fox every now and again when he felt like it. A sigh soon passed through his lips, his aquamarine irises taking in the quaint, small-Florida-town feel that Titusville had. Sebastian seemed more like a vacation getaway for adults; this place definitely seemed more family-oriented. **"You sure that they won't have a problem with you having me along?"** Frank couldn't help but voice, looking back to her. **"...I just feel weird about this." **He admitted, an unnerved tone subtly settling in as he spoke.

**"Well don't, you have no reason to."** Cara countered matter-of-factly, looking to Frank sitting beside her for a second with a grin. **"You're getting yourself worked up over **_**nothing**_**, Sarge."** Her eyes averted back to the road, letting out a breathy chuckle as she did so. One hand was planted calmly on the wheel, as her other nearest to him reached out, grasping his broad shoulder and making him sway in a playful fashion. **"**_**Relaaaax**_**."**

The heated tingles he'd receive from her every time she made physical contact with him were getting easier to deal with the more it happened; which was a huge-ass relief to him, let him tell you. Frank chuckled small himself, making a face and sitting himself upright in his seat. **"Yeeeah yeah, easy for **_**you**_** to say."** He probably _is_blowing this out of proportion, but he wasn't about to admit that.

It'd only taken a few more minutes, and Cara had driven the Chrysler into a suburban neighborhood that wasn't too far off from a grove of orange trees, and unkept jungle terrain and marsh. She pulled up into the driveway, put the car in park, turned the engine off... and boy, once she did? She couldn't have bolted out of that vehicle fast enough. In fact, she'd unbuckled and shot out, leaving the driver's door open and rushed to the front door, ringing the doorbell.

_"HONEY!"_

"WHAT?!"

"GET THE DOOR! IT'S PROBABLY CARA! HURRY!"

She was practically going to _explode_ from anticipation, smirking wide at the sounds of her grandparent's booming voices. Heh, _that_certainly hasn't changed, they could still be heard shouting at eachother a mile away. And sure enough, the door opened, and it was the very same man from that picture that was on Cara's fireplace; just with about sixteen years of age added onto him, give or take. He wasn't in military shape anymore, growing an obvious pot-belly. His hair was still thick, along with his mustache too; just with more thick streaks of silver and gray; quite a few more wrinkles too.

**"GRANDPA!"**

"WELL HELLO THERE, PRINCESS!"

The old man had boomed, letting out a hearty laugh of happiness and immediately hugging his granddaughter tightly, who had done the same in response.

**"**_**God**_** I've missed you!"**

Just then, a small, very _petite_ old woman approached from around the corner. She was very mousey, barely 5"1 and hardly over 100 lbs., having her dark hair worn in thick, voluptuous short curls obviously achieved by rollers, the usual grandma-hairdo. The moment Cara had caught sight of her over her grandma's shoulder, her face brightened up that much more. **"**_**Grandma**_**!"**

**"Hello, Mijita, **_**hello**_**!" **

Once Cara was released from her grandfather's grasp, she'd immediately gone over and drew her grandmother in a tight, but gentle embrace. **"It's so **_**great**_** to be here, Grandma! I've missed you both so much!"**However, that following second, the poor woman had erupted into sobs, clinging her close.

**"Thank **_**goodness**_** you're alright, I've been praying and **_**praying**_** for you, my darling... I am **_**so**_** happy that you're here with us again."**Bea had spoken through sniffles.

**"Awwh, Grandma... Hey, hey... I'm here now, I'm here."** Cara consoled, keeping her close and tilting her face into the side of her grandma's hair, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, which were already starting to glass up. That's when her grandfather had walked over, clasping a large hand in a firm, affectionate manner onto her shoulder. She glanced to him with a wide smile, and it'd plucked her heart strings at the sight of his eyes glassing up too. Her grandpa never cried, even in the subtlest of ways... needless to say, it'd really hit home for the Corporal, on how much her family, the two of them, really _did_love her.

**"Phew... **_**whoa**_**... **_**okay**_**, no more tears."** She'd spoken in a more uplifting tone with a small laugh of relief to follow. **"Besides! I have someone that I'd like you both to meet!"**She gently pulled away from her grandmother once she'd let go, turning and looking over her shoulder and motioning Frank over.

Usually... it was a past-time, for him to rain on Fox's parade. But he wasn't about to budge and ruin that sentimental reunion. He'd smirked at her childish antics, getting out of the Chrysler and shutting his door, _and_hers that she'd left open, before leaning back against the side of the car, arms folded as he watched the scene unfold. A warm, affectionate smile crossed his features, a rare sight on its own, just from how stricken with happiness her grandparents were. To be loved like that must be an incredible feeling. He wouldn't know. Once Cara had turned and motioned him over, he felt more comfortable to approach; at that, he casually sauntered up to stand beside her.

**"I'd like the both of you to meet my superior and CO on all of my missions, Sergeant Woods."**

**"Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Muñoz. And it's an honor to meet one of the former Major Generals of World War II."**

He'd given Beatrice a gentle, warm handshake, and to Carlos a little more firm. His greeting caused Carlos to chuckle, returning the firm handshake with just as much vigor. **"I see that my granddaughter has bragged about me."** He mused, shooting Cara a teasing look, before returning his view to the Sergeant. **"Just call me Carlos; no formalities needed here, Sergeant."**

"Sure thing,"

Frank responded with a friendly grin of his own. **"And please, call me Frank, sir."**

**"Would you both mind if he stayed here with us?"**Cara had been quick to inquire, to get that out of the way.

**"**_**Ayee**_**, of **_**course**_** we wouldn't! I'm not about to make the soldier in charge of you look for another place to stay, that'd be **_**ridiculous**_**! There's **_**plenty**_** of room here."**Bea had spoken matter-of-factly, giving her granddaughter an incredulous look, as if the answer were obvious.

The Corporal put her hands up in defense. **"I just wanted to ask to make sure! I never just assume, you know that."**Shooting her grandmother a cheesy smile, she glanced back to Frank in a subtle 'I-told-you-so' fashion. And at that, they'd been ushered inside.

It was just... flat out _amazing_ to her, on how nothing had changed when it came to the warm, loving company of two people that mattered to her more than anything. Cara had spent a good few hours just catching up, finding out how things had been with the two of them. What was flat out heart-warming to her, as corny as it may seem, is how Frank just seemed to fit right in. He'd immediately won her Grandpa over as they exchanged war-stories, and in the meantime, she was in the kitchen with her Grandmother helping to make dinner. Talk about _the_ first time in who knows how long that she's actually _done_ a typical thing expected of a female... which was dangerous, ehehe. She couldn't cook for shit; but her _Grandma_, now _she_ was amazing. All Cara was _allowed_to do was prepare the ingredients for Bea and just do as she was told.

The night had continued coursing its' way through... and now it was around 10:30pm. Her Grandma was already fast asleep in bed, and Cara had happened to walk out into the living room area, to find her Grandpa passed out in his recliner with the TV on. Grinning, she'd quietly gone over and slipped the remote out of his hand, turning it off.

**"**_**Ermph**_**... what're you... what're you doing..."**Carlos had muttered, being half-asleep as it were and coming to.

**"It's late, Grandpa. C'mon, let's get you to bed."**Cara insisted in a soothing manner, offering a hand to the old man to help him up.

**"But I still need to lock the door, and..."**

Cara chuckled, taking her Grandpa's arm and leading him towards his bedroom. **"Don't worry about it, I've got it covered."** Once they'd reached the doorway, she'd given him a warm hug, and placed a small kiss to his cheek. **"G'night. See you in the morning."**With a grin, she'd watched as he'd entered, and went over to pull out his pajamas, before gently shutting their door.

She'd curiously headed over to the half-opened doorway of the spare bedroom that her Grandma had issued to Frank to stay in. However... the light was off. She peeked in, and the bed was still flat and perfect. He wasn't in there... huh. Eh, she'd find him around. First, she'd gone into the room she always had when she came here, changing into what she wore to bed. Within a few moments, she'd exited in a crimson, black and gray plaid longsleeve shirt that was made for a man, being baggy and reaching to about mid-thigh on her. She kept her bra on though, and buttoned all the way up the front, not wanting to give the Sergeant a peepshow.

It'd taken a couple of minutes of wandering around her grandparents' quiet, darkened house, until she'd walked by the clear glass doors that opened up to the backyard; she paused, catching sight of a figure kicking back in one of the lounge chairs in front of the pool. Cara grinned, sliding the glass door open, and shutting it behind her. Her bare feet silently pattered against the cement, heading over to the chair directly beside where the Sergeant sat. **"Hey."** She greeted softly, taking a seat and leaning back against the chair, drawing her knees towards her and hugging them to her comfortably. **"What're you doing out here?"**

_Ah_, wow... when was the last time he's been able to do this? Let him recall... huh, _never_. Being able to just sit there and relax within the peace and quiet was _really_ a privilege that he didn't think he'd have. Frank had been out there in the backyard, just chillin' for a good hour or so. Normally, he couldn't stand it, being so settled for too long... but it gave him time to think, and to just have a peaceful state of mind for a change. Though time and time again... his thoughts kept leading back to a certain pain-in-his-ass Corporal. Both Carlos _and_ Bea were such great people, and he could honestly see where she got her good character from. A deep sigh escaped him, as he ran a hand down his face. _'What're you doing, Frank... You're already in the shithole enough as it is.'_ He was _just_in as much risk as she was, for knowing her secret and keeping his mouth shut about it. It didn't help that he was coming to terms with, whether he liked it or not... on just how attracted to Cara he was. He didn't feel like stressing over that right now, so he just slid his eyes shut, crossing one ankle over the other and folding his arms casually behind his head. He was in a pair of heather gray sweatpants and a white wife-beater tank, what he could be found sleeping in when he wasn't too lazy to take off the clothes he wore that day.

Being a man who was aware of his surroundings at all times, it'd been very evident to him; the new sounds that played themselves into the mix. His heartbeat picked up considerably upon hearing the door slide open, along with the quiet patters of feet against concrete coming towards him. He knew who it was. He played it cool, not giving the _slightest_of clues as to what was going on inside him.

_"Hey. What're you doing out here?"_

**"Absolutely nothing."** Frank had responded to her matter-of-factly, his lips quirking into a grin. **"And it's pretty fuckin' fantastic. People here don't realize how good they've got it."** He peeked an eye open to look over to her, then the other, pivoting his head to face her as his grin grew. **"Your grandparents are great people, Cara. Thank you for bringing me here with you. Heh... honestly, being here is better than loafing around somewhere else."**Boy, did he mean that. More than she could probably ever understand.

**"Yeah?"** Both of her eyebrows rose, flashing him a perky smile. **"Well good, I'm glad you feel that way. I'd have to say that they can't get enough of **_**you**_**, either."**

That caused Frank to chuckle lightly, nodding in response. **"I've gotta tell ya, hearing your Grandfather's stories from the front was really something. I uh... I've never been able to do that before, have that kind of connection from one war horse to another."**

Cara quirked a brow in amusement. _'War horse? Heh...'_ **"Yeah, I get you... It really lit him up today, being able to talk with you about things like that. He'll never be that way with me, **_**despite**_** how much I can legitimately recall."** She laughed a bit, shaking her head and looking off. **"It still doesn't sit well with him that I'm doing what I do to begin with... he's just accepted it. But I guess that's all I can really ask for, you know?"** She looked back over to Frank, smiling warmly. **"None of his boys ever went into the service, so being able to connect with you like that, and share his experiences with you probably meant a lot to him too."**

**"Heh, yeah..."** Man... he was just _really_ in a good place right now, mentally, emotionally. **"The stories I heard from Carlos are what I imagined hearing from **_**my**_** ol' man..."** Frank's face grew slightly somber, if only for a moment or so. **"He's a World War II Vet, too. ...But he's bound to a room in the Penn State Sanitarium. Those forsaken Nazi's fucked with his mind to a point of no return. He was alright when he came home at first... Slowly but surely though, his sanity flew out the window."**

Cara... couldn't even believe it. This was the first time, within the year and a half that she's been around him, has he _ever_ brought up his family; in this case, his dad. She couldn't help but grin, just _stoked_ that he was bringing down that giant wall of his, even if it was just one brick at a time. However... as she listened to what he had to say, her smile faded. **"Wow... I'm so sorry, I had no idea." **Then again, how could she?

"Nahh, don't be."

Frank assured her with a casual shrug of his shoulders, sending her an easygoing grin. **"There's not much that can be done about it anymore."** It used to bother him a lot, and it'd hurt to talk about it... but from the years of coping and accepting it, he was able to speak of it now. It's just that he normally chose not to. But Cara wasn't some prick who was getting too nosey about his personal business... she was different. He'd seen that slightly saddened smile she'd sent him in response, and he wasn't about to have that. The last thing he'd want from _anyone_ is a pity party. **"So, uh... what are the chances of getting your Grandma to make us something to go? For when we **_**do**_** leave?"** He questioned, flashing her a silly grin with hopeful eyes. Yeah, heh, he'd voiced it at dinner on how Bea's cooking was probably _the best_food he's ever consumed down his pipehole.

A knowing smile seeped across Cara's face, nodding. **"Oh yeah, you kidding? We'd get food to take back whether we wanted it or not."** She mused. She knew he'd _love_ her cooking, everyone did. She watched him for a moment, before flinging her legs off the side of the chair, and standing onto her feet. **"I'm going to go grab a water bottle, did you want something while I'm over there?"**She questioned, jutting a thumb over her shoulder.

Frank looked up to her thoughtfully. **"Uh... y'know what, I'll go with you."** He couldn't decide what he'd like, so he wanted to see what his options were. He walked alongside her, trailing behind _just_ slightly, but not by too much. Why? It was just a natural reaction, from the moment his eyes had caught sight of those shapely legs of hers. He's seen Cara in nothing _but_ shorts since they've been back, but... still, that didn't mean that admiring them like a hungry dog would stop. Good _god_, was this shirt all she was wearing? Jesus... for his own self-control at stake, he wanted to say something. But he just bit his tongue, finding himself being selfish and not wanting the sight itself to disappear, heheh. Little did he know that, uh... he'd been caught.

Cara had just happened to glance over her shoulder, staying quiet as she caught sight of the Sergeant with his head at a slight tilt, his eyes _ravenously_ traveling over her legs. It surprised her, not _nearly_ expecting that. But oh-ho, she'd been _very_ quick to embrace it, a sly little grin curling on her lips as her eyes narrowed at him, feeling a heat within her core begin to radiate like wildfire. _Man_, was she loving him looking at her that way... maybe a little too much. _Knowing_ he wasn't paying attention to anything else at this point, she'd reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and _shove_! Into the pool he went.

**"Awwh! You little **_**shit**_**!"**Frank shouted at her with a laugh once his head bobbed up from the water, a hand coming up to wipe the water off of his face.

Cara cackled _madly_, not being able to help it. **"Well?! What can I say, you looked like you needed to cool off."**She teased in a suggestive tone of voice, eyeing him mischievously.

**"**_**Really..."**_

A smile grew _deviously_ across his lips, watching her with wolfish eyes. Holy _shit_, that _had_to be the hottest face on him that she's ever seen.

**"You **_**do**_** realize that payback's a bitch, **_**especially**_** with me..."**Frank warned her in a low, mischievous tone of his own as he waded his way towards the edge of the pool, instantly causing Cara to take a few paces back.

**"So? What're you going to do? I'm up here and you're in there."**Cara pointed out matter-of-factly, biting her lower lip and watching him with a playful look.

Heh... she _really_ should've thought about that sentence before speaking it. Frank reached the edge of the pool, not taking his eyes off of her for a second. And at that? He'd pressed his large palms flat to the concrete surface, and lifted himself out of the water _very_ quickly. That'd _immediately_ caused a gasp to escape from Cara, with a **"Shit, shit, shit, shit, **_**shit**_**!"** to follow as she bolted off away from him. Oh-ho, _too late_! Letting out _quite_ the evil, snarky laugh, Frank charged her, his long-legged strides allowing him to _easily_ catch up to her. He'd swooped her up into his arms, bridal style, causing her to let out _the_ girliest yelp to escape her; before she could retaliate, he'd flat out tossed her into the pool.

"It ain't so grand, huh?!"

Frank antagonized, letting out a hearty laugh as Cara sulked out of the pool with a knowing smile, having that essence of defeat as she grabbed the material of her shirt to wring it out.

**"Yeeeah yeah..."** Cara _oh_so maturely stuck her tongue out at him; luckily for them, the warm, humid Florida weather provided a not-so-bad environment to be soaking wet.

**"But look on the bright side; your **_**fine ass**_** isn't hidden anymore."**Frank pointed out in a doggish fashion, biting his lower lip and wiggling his eyebrows as he neared her.

Cara paused, looking to him with a quirked brow, then down to her backside, seeing that _yes_, it left little to the imagination as to what was _underneath_ the oversized shirt, now that it was drenched and sticking to her. She scoffed, **"Heh, **_**oh**_** yeah, good thing."** She mused in _obvious_sarcasm. Heh, good to know that he thought her ass was-

Before she could process that thought, his large hand had fanned out and smacked a cheek, causing her to tense a bit from startlement. **"Oh-ho, **_**wait**_** a minute. If there's going to be some ass-smackin' going down, then it'd better work both ways."**She teased suggestively right back, smirking at Frank as he walked past her, going up to the slide glass door to open it.

Frank smirked, pausing to look back to Cara beside him with a simple shrug of the shoulders. **"Ey, I have no objections. I **_**am**_** a guy, though. I can't guarantee keeping back a fart that might slip out."**

_Instant_ snort-laugh. _INSTANT_. Cara shot up a hand to muffle her laughter, shaking her head and slipping past him once the door was open, heading towards the kitchen. They were still wet, yes, but at least they weren't to a point of leaving a trail of puddles behind them. She couldn't help but wear a _highly_ giddy smile, her back facing Frank at the moment, of course. ...Was this _really_ happening?! No fucking _way_! She wasn't about to call him out and ruin it, _that's_for damned sure.

Hah! Now a girl with a manly sense of humor... _that_ was pretty much impossible to come by, yet another reason he considered hitting the motherlode with her. Hey, you know what... if she was cool with him checking her out and smackin' her ass, then at this point, he figured he was in the clear. He wasn't sure _what_was motivating him to be this way, but he wasn't about to stop it, and he wasn't about to let his logic intervene and fuck this up.

Cara begun making clicking noises with her tongue as she neared the refrigerator in the darkened kitchen, going over and opening the door. She made sure to stand out of the way so that Frank could take a look-see, grabbing a water bottle for herself from the door compartment. **"We've got juice, water, beer, wine... yanno, whatever really."**She'd reached over to the nearby counter area and set her water bottle down, then resting an arm on top of the door, eyes on Frank as she waited for him to make up his mind.

_Goddamn_... the tension was just _so_ unbelievably thick, you could cut it with a knife. To be honest... at this point, Frank didn't even give a flying fuck about the inventory of her grandparents' fridge. He was staring into the refrigerator shelves, just taking _every_ inch of strength he had in him, and applying it to not attacking the gorgeous, fiery, _soaking_wet Fox beside him.

Little did he know that Cara was suffering through the same problems... she just wanted him to hurry the _fuck_ up and pick something to drink. Why? All she had to do while she waited was to stare at that _beast_ of a body of his, his soaked wifebeater being see-through by this point, and left _nothing_ to the imagination. Just seeing those protruding, hardened muscles just _littered_ with battle scars got her hot-blooded within a few seconds flat. Eheh, was that sad? Finally, she just couldn't take it anymore. **"Ya plan on pickin' out something tonight sometime? That'd be nice."**She asked teasingly, but meant it, quirking a brow up at Frank and putting her free hand on the curve of her hip, the other arm still bent and leaning on the opened refrigerator door.

Frank's face had snapped to attention, and back up and over to her quickly when she spoke, just eyeing her silently for a good second or two. The look he'd given her made a _harsh_ tingle shoot up Cara's spine, his eyes just having such a... a _dark_gaze in them.

In one smooth motion, he'd taken a step up to her, and used an arm to quickly shove the refrigerator door shut; he used her off-balance from her prior position to his advantage, taking that opportunity to trap her against the refrigerator itself. Both of his hands clasped onto the rim of the lower refrigerator door, which was around waist-level to Cara, and boxed her in between his arms. Quite the sexy little grin quirked onto his features, as he leaned in _awfully_ close, the tip of his nose gently brushing against hers. **"I'm not thirsty anymore... But I've gotten a bit hungry, though."**

Good _god_, his voice... that husky, deepened rasp that she's _never_ heard it reach before. Cara's heart was _racing_, and her thoughts were beginning to get clouded by lust. This _man_...

**[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]**

AHHH, MY BELOVED FOLLOWERS, HOW I HAVE NEGLECTED YOUUU. Hopefully this new chapter makes up for it! I'm already in the process of the next Chapter where I left this sucker hanging ( buahaha ). I SWEAR to you that I'll actually be able to get shit up now! I'm currently on deployment and that just totally sucked up my time. BUT. We're on the last stretch, and things have gotten easy, so I'll have MUCH more time to write for all of you lovely people! I hope you loved this! As always, it was entertaining as hell to type. My inner Frank is maiming me for taking so long. I SHALL TRY MY BEST TO NEVER HAVE DELAYS THIS LONG AGAIN!

-**GunsAndIceCream**


	6. HEY GUYS! FINAL ANNOUNCEMENT!

**ANNOUNCEMENT:**

Hey, everyone! I am SOOOOO sorry that it's been so long since I've last updated!

I have some bittersweet news.

Want the good news first? OF COURSE YOU DO. I'll be posting chapters a LOT more frequently, I finally got established in the new state I'm in, since I'm back from my deployment in Japan.

The bad news... is that the chapters I'll be posting aren't going to be for this fanfic anymore.

**BUT LET ME COUNTER THAT WITH MORE GOOD NEWS:**

The only reason I'm stopping _this_ fanfic, is because I've been _hella_ inspired by the campaign mode of Black Ops II! I'm having an entirely different approach this time around, this way the storyline between Frank and Cara is that much more epic!

**EVEN MORE GOOD NEWS, HOLY SHIT YOU'RE KILLING ME:**

The first chapter is already up, and it's all set up! You can find it here! It even has a snazzy layout, with music and everything!

** burninglikewildfire . tumblr . com**

(It's that address above, just without the spaces. is being weird and not letting me post the address normally. /shakes fist)

You don't _have_ to be a member of to read it, but I_ highly_ recommend joining if you haven't already. It's _such_ a kickass site, AND if you do? Then you'll be updated when I post chapters, because you can follow me, AND you can 'like' chapters and send me feedback/or just chat with me by sending me messages through the askbox on the page! And it's totally free, all of it.

So anyways, I hope that I get to see you all there!

-GunsAndIceCream


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